


Driven to Destiny

by Splfguy



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Eventual Romance, F/M, Link is a race car driver, Motorsports, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Writing this because I love racing, Zelda is an engineer, eventual zelink, lots of references, references mean I'm clever right?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splfguy/pseuds/Splfguy
Summary: [AU] Link is a struggling young race car driver on the verge of losing his dream when an opportunity finally presents itself with the Silent Princess Engineering team. Unfortunately they aren't in much better shape and Zelda loathes having to place her hopes on some inexperienced young hot shot. Together the two have a lot to overcome if they are to win the Triforce of Motorsports.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 84





	1. Club Race Courage

One red light

Link checked his belts and harness one final time, giving them a hard tug to make sure they were tight. His other hand went up to his head and neck restraint, doing the same check to confirm the tether was securely anchored to his helmet. Better to know they were tight and secure now than find out the hard way that they weren’t.

Two red lights

Link’s left hand went to the steering wheel, squeezing the leather causing it to crack and squak beneath his gloved fingers. His thumb rubbed against the metal spoke of the wheel checking the grip he would have on it when it came time to turn it in anger. In front of him several of the other cars roared to life as some of the more excitable drivers revved their engines. Link let out a deep breath he had not even consciously held as his heart joined the engines and began to race. .

Three red lights

His feet found both the brake and clutch pedals and pressed them both to the floor. His right hand disengaged the parking brake next to him before moving a few short inches to the gear lever. With the clutch engaged it was safe to put the transmission into first gear where a high ratio would launch the car from its position on the grid. With that done his right hand joined the left on the wheel and the long seconds ticked by as he anxiously adjusted his grip.

Four red lights

His right leg rotated so that the ball of the foot remained pressing down on the brake pedal while the heel found the throttle. All three pedals were now pressed hard to the floor. The engine in front of him roared to life, climbing quickly in tone as the tachometer jumped to redline. Soon the high pitched whine was joined by a steady beat as the engine bounced off the rev limiter. But Link could not hear any of it as his senses were filled with an entirely different percussion. His pulse pounded hard and fast in his ears and he felt as though he could go deaf from that sound alone. 

Five red lights

Every car on the grid was now singing their own one note songs. The symphony was a simple one but it resonated in every driver nonetheless. Link’s eyes were glued on the same thing every other driver was wholly focused on. The bright grid of LED lights which hung above the start finish line. Fractions of a second ticked by like minutes as everything the day had built towards prepared to be unleashed.

Zero red lights

By the time the red lights had been replaced by green Link’s feet were already moving. His right twisted to release the break while his left lifted to disengage the clutch. He could feel the engine start to engage with the rest of the drivetrain and surge power to the rear wheels. The tires spun and smoked as they struggled to reconcile the power being sent through them with their own grip on the asphalt below. Link lifted and feathered the throttle, riding the line between acceleration and loss of grip. The sooner the tires got hooked up the better but he could not risk letting the engine slow and bog down either. 

Before his eyes every other car on the grid began the same battle. Some cars fishtailed as their drivers lost control of the rear, others got better starts and began to move forward with purpose. The instant Link’s tires began to grip the track his foot slammed the gas pedal down to the floor. He had work to do and no time to waste. 

He had spent all of the short qualifying session replacing a snapped belt in the engine leaving him to start in the back after not setting a time. With the entire field in front of him and only ten laps to race he had to make up ground fast. Right now was the best time to make up positions with all his opponents bunched up. Every corner would spread the field out and by the end of the first lap positions would be hard to make up. 

His car launched out of its spot on the starting grid and he began to take the car up through the gears. By the time he crossed the starting line he was already in third gear and had passed a few of the cars with poorer starts. Looking up ahead of him he saw himself gaining on most of the cars in front of him. He had gotten a good start and his hopes of a good finish were still alive for now. 

He began to snake his way through the back half of the field, passing cars on whichever side there was room. When two cars took up either side of the track he gunned for the middle. When another car looked to block him off he kept the throttle pinned and forced his car between his opponent and the pit wall causing a deep thud as the other car banged off of his. Link winced beneath his helmet as he imagined what damage had been done but had no time to dwell on it as he continued up the hill which led into the first turn, a left hander which sat right at the crest of the hill. It was long, wide, and flat out even at racing speeds. Link cut to the inside before letting the car swing back to the outside after the crest of the hill for the lead up to the first real challenge of the track.

In front of him he could see the lead cars already braking for turn two at the third brake marker. Link put his car as far to the right as he could for a wide entrance into another left hand corner. He flew past the third marker and jumped on the brakes only once he hit the second, swerving inside of a slower car that had slowed sooner. His feet danced over the pedals, tapping the throttle with his heel as he downshifted from fifth gear down to third. 

He ended up turning in sooner than his rivals but that was all according to plan. As they aimed for the center apex of the one hundred eighty degree hairpin he hit the inside curb earlier, driving in deeper and letting the car swing out wide while other cars were at the apex. Using the brake to get the car to rotate he aimed for his second apex, getting a straighter and thus faster exit onto the next straight. 

Once again the car swung out to the right before Link took it right back across to the left. His greater momentum carried him past yet another opponent. Clearing him just as they approached the next turn. He hardly slowed for the fast right hander, staying in third gear as he dabbed the brakes to get the car to turn in. He was back on the throttle almost immediately as he took the car through the corner and drifting out almost to the grass on the exit. The next corner was much the same, another right hander with barely a lift needed to take the sweeping turn. To Link’s satisfaction he once again got a great run through the corner, allowing him to catch and pass another car through the kink which led up to the fifth turn. 

The engine hit redline in fourth gear for a mere instant before Link was on the brakes just past the third marker and downshifted before turning in hard for the left hander. The exit of this turn began the long climb uphill. The engine didn’t even make two hundred horsepower and it was times like this when that fact was easy to feel. The car struggled to accelerate uphill but still the speedometer slowly ticked upwards nonetheless. He managed to get a run on the car in front of him but much to his frustration had to back out on the approach to the next corner. 

Turn six was a fast left hand kink. The racing line was narrow and taking two cars through side by side would be a gamble to say the least, far too risky for the first lap of the race. Unfortunately this also meant that Link would have to wait until even further into the lap to make another try for a pass. 

The long uphill climb continued, leveling off just in time for turn seven, a slight right kink that would be completely inconsequential were it not for what laid after it. The hardest corner on the course. The one turn that made every adrenaline junky with four wheels and an engine want to come to this track, The Corkscrew. A left right chicane made complex by the steep drop off in the middle. 

Link braked as late as he dared and turned in for the blind first apex. His heart went into his throat as the front of the car dipped down and he made the near sixty foot plunge, his car jumping from fifty miles per hour up to sixty in a near instant as it’s power was aided by gravity. He could feel the suspension crying out in pain as it compressed at the bottom of the drop. Through what felt almost more like luck than skill he hit the second right hand apex and swung out wide using as much of the track as he could. 

Link’s foot jumped back on the throttle as soon as he thought the car was settled which was apparently sooner that the car in front of him as he managed to get to it’s inside on the short run to the next turn. With the shorter line Link was able to easily complete the pass through the long downhill sweeper, coming out wide on the right before shooting over to the left for the penultimate corner. 

A dab of the brakes to make the car turn in and back on the throttle early. His momentum carried into a run on the next car but they took a defensive line, knowing it would be difficult to impossible to pass around the outside of the final corner. But Link had a plan. He drove the car in deep, braking a bit later than he normally would for the final left hander which was the slowest on the course. Not to be out done his opponent drove in even deeper, only to lock up the brakes as he struggled to slow for the sharp corner. He slid far past the turn in point, allowing Link to cut in early and easily make the pass. Once again on the start finish straight he accelerated hard, working his way up through the gears. As he crossed the line he checked the position board. He had made it up to tenth from twenty fourth on the grid, thanks mostly to passes made at the very start. From here on out it would be harder to overtake however. Not only were the leaders already spread out from each other but there was a reason they were the leaders. They were the best on the track. 

But Link was better, that much he knew. But with only nine laps to go and the toughest passes still to make he didn’t have much time to prove it. 

Impa took a sip from her tea, savoring the pleasant taste and aroma as she sat back and watched the cars take their formation on the grid from her seat on the hill overlooking the track. Taking a long breath of the fresh afternoon air she relaxed in her seat. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and a cool pleasant breeze blowing. All in all it was a perfect day to enjoy a bit of racing. 

As the cars below her began to rev up in anticipation of the start she felt a pang of nostalgia. Part of her wanted nothing more than to be down there herself. She may be past her prime but surely she could still handle those underpowered roadsters and show those younger drivers a thing or two. But she had to remind herself that no matter how much she thought her reaction times were still sharp, her old bones were simply not up to the task. 

She would have to be content watching from the sidelines. Her eyes scanned through the line up as the lights went out, taking note of every car and their position in the field. When the lights went out and the race got underway she took particular note of the forest green car that started dead last. He had gotten a good start, a very good one at that. It began to quickly rise through the pack on the run up to turn one. Impa chuckeld, either they had jumped the start or they were very lucky indeed. Her interest grew to surprise when not even an attempted block and contact from a competitor slowed the green car’s charge. The driver was either too aggressive ot stupid and she half expected to see him lock up the brakes and go straight off the track at the first hairpin.

But as the field came by once again to complete the first lap she second guessed her assumption. Somehow that green car with the number eighty-six hand painted on the side had somehow made its way up to tenth. Even with the great start they still had to have passed about a half dozen cars in one lap by Impa’s counting to make it up that far. 

Impa sat up in her seat and adjusted her red cap to keep make sure the sun was out of her eyes. She had come to watch a simple club race but it seems things had just gotten quite interesting indeed. 

Another minute and a half ticked by before the cars came speeding past her once again. She kept an eye out for car number eighty-six again and took notice of where it ran. Ninth position, whoever was driving that thing had managed to make up a decent sized gap and pass another car in one lap. Her eyes quickly scanned through the field, taking note of the gaps between each of the front running cars. Adding them up Impa estimated that the green car had about seven seconds to make up to catch the leader. 

He may have had the pace to do it but passing these cars would be a different challenge altogether than merely catching them. Every corner they didn’t make an overtake would be another chance for the leader to extend the lead thanks to the advantages offered by a clear track. The green car may continue to move forward, and might even land a top three finish, but they would probably run out of laps before they could make a serious challenge at the lead. 

And yet lap after lap she was given reason to doubt her assumption. The green car would close in a single lap what most would take multiple to whittle down. One by one the challengers ahead fell, and at one point even fell two at once as they made it three wide down the front straightaway. 

Whoever was behind the wheel was in a league of their own, that much was clear. But as the race went on her attention turned from the question of what they could do and towards the matter of why they were here. This was little more than a club race in small roadsters with less power than a lot of street cars. If they were as good as they looked then what were they doing wasting their talent at this level?

By the time number eighty-six made it into second place with two laps to go Impa was no longer surprised. She would have to meet the driver after the race, that much was clear. Now the matter of the win came into question. Impa now knew better than to underestimate whoever this was but this would still be quite the challenge. The gap between them and the leader was nearly four seconds. If the leader could keep it clean and mistake-free it seemed they had the win in the bag. They could afford to give off some of that sizable lead and still probably easily win.

However as the leaders came by to take the white flag and start the final lap the lead had been cut in half and then some. Whoever was in that car was far from done. Impa’s hands went to the binoculars which hung around her neck. She was not going to miss a single second of this.

The race had passed in a blur for Link. The lap count had quickly been lost as he instead focused on the task at hand, catching and passing as many cars as he could as fast as he could. Every corner he drove in deeper, braking later and accelerating sooner. Everything else around him faded except for his car, the track, and the obstacles between him and the leader. 

It wasn’t until he saw the white flag that he actually took stock of his situation. A glance towards the position board showed him in second place. That was good but he didn’t like what he saw in front of him. There was far too much daylight between him and the leader. He could catch him, that much he was confident in. But by the time he did he may only have one or two corners to try and set up a pass. If the leader was any good he could defend for that long. 

Nonetheless Link drove his heart out every turn, hearing the tires beneath him squeal as he pushed them to the edge of adhesion. He was gaining but it wasn’t until turn six that he saw a ray of hope. It seemed the leader had taken notice of his charge and had gotten a bit nervous. On the exit of the fast left hand kink they had gone wide. Not by much but by just enough. The rear tires kicked up a cloud of dust as the back end slid out from the sudden loss of traction. 

The leader steered into the skid and quickly managed to recover. But they had lost their momentum and in these cars momentum was everything, especially on an uphill climb like this. Link felt as though he would press the throttle pedal right through the floor as he squeezed every ounce of speed he could from the engine. 

By the time they approached the corkscrew Link was almost to the leader’s bumper. It was close but not close enough. The only good passing opportunity between there and the finish was to out brake the other car into the final turn. However Link didn’t much like the thought of waiting until then to try and make a move. He needed to make every opportunity presented to him and make some opportunities of his own when he could.

He knew he could try to make a pass right here and now into the corkscrew, but the racing line was narrow and treacherous and he was further back than he would have liked. He could dive bomb it but he was just as likely to end up in the tire barriers at the edge of the track than actually come out on top. But he could not settle for second. He had to try.

He was not about to back out and let himself doubt, even for a minute, that he was capable of winning.

The leader’s car leaned forward as it’s weight shifted under braking but Link didn’t lift. Swerving to the left he stuck his nose to the inside before finally getting on the brakes past the point he had done so on any lap so far. The tires smoked and squealed and he feathered the pedal as he tried to get as much stopping power as he could without locking the brakes up. He turned towards the apex but knew in an instant that he was carrying too much speed. 

Still he did as much as he could to make the corner. He felt and heard a bang as his momentum carried him across and into his opponent. The wheel in his hands rocked back and forth as he struggled to keep the unsettled car not ply pointed in the right direction but rotating back the opposite way to make the second part of the chicane. Against all odds he just barely managed to keep it on track. 

Unfortunately his struggle with the car meant he could not get back on the gas as soon as he usually would. His opponent jumped on this opportunity just like Link would have done. But as they approached turn nine Link knew the fight was already won.

He had the inside line for the downhill sweeper and used that to his advantage, pushing his rival wide and forcing him to lift. With that done Link knew he just needed to take a defensive line through the last two turns and keep his car right in the middle of the track to deny the former leader of any room to set up a pass. As they came down the front straight for the final time Link’s fist shot up in the air. His tires were shot and his car had more than a few new dents that needed repair but he found it difficult to care about that right now. After all he had just won, what did anything else matter? 

He felt he could have reached up and taken the checkered flag out of the marshal’s hand right there. 

Up on the hill overlooking the track Impa slowly rose up from her seat, careful not to move too quickly and lose her balance. Her knees popped as she stood up and she steadied herself with the walking cane she had taken to carrying around years ago. The small crowd of spectators began to clear out and leave the track but she was going in the opposite direction, towards the pedestrian bridge which ran over the track.

As the drivers went through their cool down laps before making their way back into the pits and garage Impa went as fast as her old bones could carry her. There wasn’t much in terms of post race celebrations at these sorts of events. At most there would be a quick ceremony with trophies handed out before the drivers packed up and left. Assuming that whoever was driving that green car hadn’t also driven it to the track the process of loading it up onto a trailer should also give her more time to find them.

With each step she took Impa though back over the events of the race and what she had witnessed. The winner was talented, that much was clear. But there were plenty of unanswered questions as well. Who exactly were they and why were they racing at a simple club event when they could and probably should be doing so much more? There were multiple occasions during the race in which they had banged fenders during a pass or kicked up a bit of dust after going wide out of a turn. It was an aggression that was well suited for a short ten lap race but could they also show the patience needed for longer events? And most importantly Impa wanted to know if they would be a good fit for what she needed, and how to get them on board. 

As Impa crossed over the pedestrian bridge her eyes narrowed scanned the cars entering exiting the track into the garage area, taking note of where her target was going. 

There was only one way to get the answers to these questions, and that was to ask them in person.


	2. Money makes the cars go round

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The best way to make a small fortune in racing is to start off with a large one."

Zelda felt like she was just about ready to throw her laptop through her office window. It was an urge she had been holding back for the last several hours, barely restrained by a waning sense of self control. Plus there were countless important documents on the computer. Destroying the offensive machine would be a significant setback to say the least.

But Hylia would it feel great. 

It was not the laptop’s fault, she was still reasonable enough to understand that. Rather it was the information on the screen that was the source of her frustration. On the display was shown the variety of financial documents, bank statements, expense reports, invoices and ledgers that she had spent hours double checking and adding up. She had come in early to get to work on this particular puzzle and now it was almost dusk. Her desk displayed the evidence of her busy and as to now fruitless day, a single plate with a half eaten sandwich on it was surrounded by empty cups of coffee and tea. 

With her frustration reaching yet another peak Zelda took a deep breath and pushed her chair away from the desk. He hand went to the bridge of her nose and her eyes closed if only to rest for a mere moment. Feeling her limbs ache from their hours of inactivity she stood from her chair and took a long stretch. That act alone helped her mood but she did not yet feel up to returning to the tedious task at hand. 

Walking over to the office window she looked out at the cause for which she had been struggling all day. Below her was her race shop or at least what she charitably called a race shop. She knew her competitor’s facilities made her own look like little more than a glorified garage. But still she had put her entire life the past few years into building this place to what it was today. It may not have been much but she was proud of it. 

Which only served to make her current predicament all the more heartbreaking and stressful. 

When she had started Silent Princess Engineering she had dreams of leading it to success. She had envisioned spending her days in a wind tunnel fine tuning the body parts of her cars, coming up with clever tricks and revolutionary new ways of manipulating physics to create speed on the track, and running out of room to store all the trophies her cars had won.

But that was close to five years ago and in that time she felt that she had only learned one thing. And that was that money made cars go around the track more than fuel did. Without the funds she needed there was no wind tunnel to fine tune her cars, there was no way to fund or test her ideas, and there were little if any trophies to show off her accomplishments. Now her inadequate funds weren’t just eating up her team’s potential, it was eating up her time.

Her head turned and wearily carried her sight back to the laptop on her desks and the countless spreadsheets and reports displayed on the screen. She had never thought so much of her time running the team would be taken up managing money. Even now she could hardly believe it the irony of so much of her time being consumed over such a small amount of money.

She let out a heavy sigh, resigned to going back to the migraine inducing task at hand when she heard the door to her office swing open. In walked a tall dark skinned gerudo woman with a binder full of notes and documents tucked under her arm. She wasted no time in dropping the binder onto the desk with a loud thud before bringing her hands up to her temples to nurse her own headache.

“I take it that you don’t have much in the way of good news to share Urbosa.” Zelda said with a sigh. Despite the long stressful day she couldn’t help but crack a small smile at how much her friend’s state mirrored her own.

“I just got off the phone with Guardian Auto Parts.” She gave Zelda a tired look, one which Zelda could sympathize well with. Phone calls with their sponsor was not a responsibility she relished as of late. When their partnership with the car parts company had begun they hadn’t seemed to mind that Silent Princess Engineering was a new team nor did they seem to care that race results were nothing much to write home about. They had simply seemed thrilled to have their company name and colors on Zelda’s cars. However over the past year the phone calls had grown less excited and far more tense. The conversations had become frustratingly predictable.

“Let me guess, they love the partnership but want to cut back on what their spending and think we should keep doing what we have been for less.” Zelda rolled her eyes as she sarcastically recounted what had been the gist of her last conversation with one of company representatives. Urbosa let out a wry chuckle.

“If I had known you were listening in on the call I wouldn’t have bothered coming up here to give you the update.” Urbosa replied to Zelda’s sarcasm with her own. Zelda meanwhile was busy plopping back down into her office chair and sliding down the back until she sat in a slouch.

“So it was the same conversation as usual then?” She brought her hand up to her forehead, desperate to calm the dull throbbing that had been slowly intensifying all afternoon. “Is there actually anything new to report?”

Urbossa flipped the binder open to find a particular page as she spoke, “They actually opened their tight fists a little bit, although I wouldn’t call them generous over this either.” When she had found the correct page she spun the binder around and slid it over for Zelda to look. “They’re giving us this much to run the Hateno 500. I know it’s not much but they made it clear that this is all that they’re going to give us.”

It was not a surprise that the company wanted them to run at Hateno. The race had been an annual tradition for more than a hundred years. It was one of if not the biggest events in the motorsports world. Teams, drivers, and sponsors from all over wanted to be a part of the spectacle and it wasn’t the first time Guardian Auto Parts had wanted their colors and logo on a car for race.

Zelda looked at the numbers Urbosa was pointing to on the page before closing her eyes in thought. She didn’t need to refer back to the financial statements she had been looking over, she had looked over them enough over the past hours to put together a rough idea on her own. Her quick mental summation left her with a sense of relief.

“You’re right, it’s not great. But it should be enough for us to at least get a car on track and try and be decently competitive.” She looked to Urbosa who only gave a sad shake of her head.

“It’s enough to fund one car. Unfortunately they only gave the money on the condition that we enter two.” 

Zelda stared in disbelief and exasperation before almost shouting, “And how do they expect us to pay for the second car, selling precious gems or something?” 

Urbosa gave a tired sigh, “Your guess is as good as mine. It was a struggle just to get that much out of them.” She left the reason for the difficulty unsaid. It didn’t need to be stated out loud. Both Zelda and Urbosa knew that the team lacked the achievements necessary for the kind of leverage and trust they needed. For every win in a lower category or decent finish in a premier one there were at least half a dozen DNFs and DNQs. 

The diminishing faith that Guardian Auto Parts had in this sponsorship had been painfully evident for a while. And unfortunately that had only compounded to create even worse results as Zelda had been forced to spend less time working on the cars and more time negotiating for less money.

Standing back up from her chair Zelda walked back over to the window and resumed her sorrowful inspection of the garage. Urbosa meanwhile continued to relay information from the call.

“They say they want big results for this one. They’re tired of having their cars finish last and they say they want a win at a big prestigious race to have something to show for their money.” Zelda’s stomach began to sink and her headache worsened as she came to an unsettling realization. 

“They don’t actually expect us to succeed.” She turned back to Urbosa who shared the same defeated look. “They’re cutting us short on what we need and raising the expectations beyond what we can reasonably do.” She threw her arms out in frustration before continuing, “I mean winning Hateno is hard enough. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if it was easy. And now they want us to do it with barely enough money to pay a pit crew and prepare the car. I mean how the hell are we going to pay our drivers with what’s left over?” 

It was Urbosa who answered, bristling with anger. “They don’t actually expect or want us to. As much as they like to play ignorant about the costs of running a race team they know damn well what they’re asking us to do. We’ll be lucky to get both cars in the field, much less have them run well.”

“And then when we fail they have all the excuse they need to pull their sponsorship.” Zelda finished Urbosa’s thought.

“They wouldn’t just do something like this out of nowhere. There must be something…” Urbosa paused and gave Zelda a foreboding look, “or somebody pressuring them.”

Zelda shuddered. She knew who the Gerudo woman was alluding to and did not want to utter the name of that foul man in her office. Still there was no way around it. If they were to come up with a plan they needed to discuss the situation. 

“They’ve gotten so much more demanding over the last couple of months. I’ll be the first to admit we’ve had our struggles as a team but they used to be so understanding and patient with the lackluster results. It’s no coincidence that they only started to pressure us after we turned down Gannondorf Dragmire’s offer to buy the team.”

Urbosa crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. Her muscles twitched and her teeth grinded as she seethed in anger. “I’m glad that you see that snake of a man’s involvement. This whole situation has the slime of his meddling all over it.” Zelda felt the same frustration but was far too tired to actually show it. 

Gannondorf Dragmire had quite an impressive string of achievements. His grandfather had founded Dragmire Motor Group and he himself had taken over the company from his father. He had pushed its motorsports division to become the envy of the garage in series around the world. All the trophies Zelda had tried and failed to claim Gannondorf had won. And the automotive world had taken notice of his success. The last few years had seen the name Dragmire had become synonymous with performance and as a result the company had flourished. 

But it seemed that the goal he seemed most focused on at the moment was being a Goron sized pain in the ass to Zelda and her team. And unfortunately it was a task he was as successful at as he was at winning races. Every race Silent Princess Engineering had entered had seen Dragmire Motors added to the entry list not long after. Drivers and staff were poached away from Zelda’s team over to his, draining the already struggling team of the ability to effectively compete. Ant that wasn’t even mentioning the multiple occasions of his cars pushing hers off track and costing them time.

At first Zelda and Urborsa wrote it off as mere coincidence or a team that was pushing hard to be the best. But Dragmire had gotten less and less subtle in their attempts to undermine their team and it wasn’t long before frustration grew to suspicion. When he had offered to purchase the team outright it had only served as confirmation of what Zelda and Urbosa had long believed.

They had rejected the offer out of hand. As long as Zelda could keep building cars there wasn’t a price that was worth selling the team for. But it seemed that instead of putting an end to Dragmire’s scheming it had only driven him to a new tactic. With his prestige and resources it wasn’t hard to imagine him finding a way to pull strings at Guardian Auto Parts. 

It seemed he would not rest until he had acquired Zelda’s team and all it’s assets. Although what such a wealthy man wanted from Zelda’s small company was beyond her.

“So what’s our next move?” Zelda asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the small office with a voice that could not hide her resignation and weariness.

“We prepare for the race.” Urbosa answered without a second’s hesitation. “What choice do we even have?”

“Urbosa that’s hardly an option at all!” Zelda threw up her hands in frustration and incredulity. Her voice was strained and once again raised to a near shout. “We barely have enough money to put one car on track. Just the added expense of fuel, tires, and a pit crew for a second car alone would push us near the breaking point! And that’s not even mentioning the costs for any repairs or replacement parts that might come up!” 

She stormed back over to the desk and plopped down in her seat, although this time her elbows came to rest on the desk and her head did the same in her hands. She had spent all day trying to cut costs and find extra money. And now that financial burden had practically doubled. She was on the edge of frustrated and angry tears. 

“Little Bird, listen to me.” Urbosa spoke again, this time with a voice that was soft and calm. Zelda looked up to face her and saw the Gerudo woman reaching over to place a comforting hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “Times are dire, that much is undeniable. But I’ve never known you to back out of a challenge and I know you’re not about to start now. And if this is going to be our last race as a team then we’re going to go down fighting. We’re going to run until the tank is empty.”

“Until the tank is empty.” Zelda repeated the often used rallying call around the shop. She closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. She took a moment and cleared her head, pushing out all the stress that the long day had spent building up. As the aching in her head began to subside the was finally able to focus on the task that was laid out in front of her. Urbosa was right. Running this team had been her life’s dream since she was a child and she was not just going to give up now. If she was going to end up going home in defeat then it would not be from a lack of trying on her part. 

“Okay… Thank you Urbosa.” Zelda opened her eyes and gave her friend and business partner a heartfelt smile. Running through the shop’s inventory in her head she began to make a checklist of what would need to be done in order to get the second car on track. 

“Luckily we already have an extra chassis, and we can use the backup engine from the first car to power it. Things will be tight but as long as neither engine has a catastrophic failure we should be fine. We’ll also need to hire some people to work on and pit the car and scrounge together every spare part we have to cover any potential failures.” Her hands went to the laptop on her desk and she began to take notes, her fingers flying over the keyboard as fast as they could form words.

Urbosa chuckled at the flurry of new activity but was excited nonetheless by the change in mood. She began to help, adding to the list of requirements and offering solutions when she had them. One by one they began to work down the short list and cross off problems as they were figured out. Before long a plan was actually beginning to take shape. By the time the sun had set and evening had fallen over the small racing shop they both felt well on their way to tackling the challenge of getting another car to the race. However the hurdle of being competitive in one of or both cars would be a whole new level of difficulty and it was a problem they would simply have to face when they got to the track. 

It was not until Zelda’s growling stomach grew as loud as Urbosa’s that they finally decided to call it a day. As they made their way out of the shop discussing their plans and the tasks that would need to be tackled the next day It was Urbosa who interrupted the discussion by slapping her forehead and letting out a deep laugh.

“We’re forgetting one important thing Little bird. If we’re going to run another car then we’ll need somebody to drive it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and a special thanks to those who reviewed and commented on the first one. Your encouraging words are helping keep me motivated in writing this. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as much as the first one.
> 
> Glad to have another chapter up. Hope to keep up a weekly upload schedule and post on Sunday afternoon as long as I can. Not sure how long I'll actually be able to keep it up but I'll try. And speaking of Sundays this chapter was originally posted on the 8th of March, 2020. If you're reading at time of posting next week will be the season debut for both Formula One with the Australian Grand Prix and Indycar with the Grand Prix of St. Petersburg. Those are two types of racing that may prove relevant to later chapters and I would recommend you watch them anyways. If I can make just a few new racing fans out of this fic then I'll be a very happy fan.


	3. Tireside chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link prepares to depart from the race track when he is interrupted by a strange old woman.

The sound of metal clanging against asphalt was drowned out among the general noise in the garage area. Drivers chatted either about the race or their plans for the rest of the day now that it was over. Some argued about aggressive moves or contact made during the short race. Meanwhile cars were loaded onto trailers. It was all so noisy and hectic that that the sound of a single tool being dropped wasn’t even noticeable 

The source of the racket was one of the drivers. Despite the fact that this particular driver had won the day’s race his face showed no signs of the smile that would be expected from the victor. 

Instead he sat on the asphalt next to the fender of his car lightly sucking on a small wound on his finger and silently muttering frustrated curses. Next to him sat a tire iron, the cause of the unpleasant chime. As he took his finger out of his lips and wiped it off on his shirt he took a look around the paddock. Most of the other cars were loaded up already. Even the solo drivers who didn’t have any help were almost loading their cars onto the flatbeds. Everyone but him was either leaving already or were all but ready to leave.

Link let out an envious sigh. If only he had a trailer then maybe he could have been on his way home by now. He looked on in jealousy before remembering that even if he had a trailer he lacked a second vehicle to tow it. 

Feeling a surge of frustration he tried to turn his attention back to focus on the task at hand, changing the tires on his car. Driving his race car home meant changing off the racing slicks for treaded street tires. He could try driving home on the race tires but he knew he could ill afford to slide off the road if rain came. 

He needed this car to drive to work tomorrow after all.

Picking the tire iron back up he placed it on a lug nut and pulled with all his might. As he grunted in exertion he felt the lug start to slip little by little. That was until the friction holding it in place gave all at once. Suddenly without the resistance on the tire iron Link’s weight went tumbling backwards, landing on his rear. The tire iron fell to the pavement once again, drowning out the angrily yelled expletives coming from Link’s mouth. 

The process was as slow and frustrating as it always was. Even the excitement and joy from his victory had faded under the tedium as he struggled with each lug nut on all four wheels. But one by one the wheels came off and were replaced with ones which had street tires fitted. A half hour later when he finally tightened the final nut securing the last wheel he found himself alone in the garage. He wanted to chuck the tire iron into the car out of frustration. Only the presence of the small trophy in the passenger seat stopped him mid swing from throwing it. 

Instead he merely tossed the tool aside since there was no longer anybody around to be bothered by the noise. At least the hard part was done. Now all he needed to do was attach the tire rack to the trunk of the car and tie down the racing wheels for transport. He set to work hoping to get these last few steps done as quickly as he could. If he wanted to get home and get enough sleep for work tomorrow he would need to be fast about it. 

He had barely had time to pick up the tire rack before he was interrupted. 

“Having trouble with something young man?”

Link was fairly certain that everybody else had already left. He turned around to look for the newcomer only to have to look down. The sight that sat before Link was odd to say the least.

The woman was still shrouded in the darkness of the dimly lit garage area but there were still a few features he could make out. She was old, very much so from what he could see. Her face was covered in heavy wrinkled lines, and her back was hunched over as she supported her weight with a small walking cane. Short strands of braided hair came hung down on either side of her head from a red cap. 

“I’m sorry Ma’am, is there something I can help you with? I’m kind of busy at the moment.” Link gestured to the car behind him and the unsecured tire rack that sat on the trunk. 

“You had quite the performance out there today. It’s been a while since I’ve seen somebody drive quite like that.” The old woman said. Link figured that she either has not heard his question or quite possibly was ignoring it. It was flattering to hear her praise his driving ability but he felt a surge of frustration nonetheless. He needed to get his tires tied down and hit the road if he was going to get any reasonable amount of sleep before work tomorrow. He didn’t have time to chat with this woman. 

“Thank you very much Ma’am. I appreciate it but I really got to finish packing up so I can leave.” He scratched the back of his head, feeling a bit bad at brushing the old woman off but hoping that she would get his hint nonetheless. The woman stepped forward into the light Link had been toiling under allowing him to see her face clearly for the first time. Her skin was wrinkled with age but not as much as it had first appeared. As Link looked closer he could see that some of the lines were not from age but from burn scars. Most of them were on the side of her face where they were partially blocked by the woman’s hair although it did not seem that was the purpose of the braided locks. 

She found a seat on one of Link’s discarded tires, crossing her legs in such a fashion that Link thought she might start to meditate. “Take a seat.” She spoke her command softly, gesturing towards the ground

Link let out a frustrated sigh. He needed to finish packing up so he could leave but he found that he did not have the nerve to turn this woman away so directly, even if she was obviously unconcerned with schedule. Lowering himself onto the ground he tried to make himself comfortable on the asphalt with his back against his car’s door. He tried to cross his legs like the Sheikah woman had but quickly found it more comfortable just to let them stretch out in front of him.

“I do have to say though you were a bit reckless at times.” The woman said, gesturing towards the dented fenders and scratched bumpers on either end of the car.

“One would think that a driver would take care of their car if it was their only way home.” 

“How did you know that?” Link shot back defensively. What she was saying wasn’t wrong but he didn’t like to talk about his shortage of proper equipment. The old woman merely let out a laugh.

“Most people who go racing with these things don’t keep licence plates on their cars. And normally they would also take out the passenger seat as well to save weight.” Link grimaced at her words. It was obvious to anybody who knew what to look for that what she was saying was true. After all if he had another car he would have been out of here already and wouldn’t be talking to this strange woman at all.

“Well yeah I need this to get home but….” Link paused as he struggled to think of how to excuse his recklessness. “...Well It’s a race. I needed to pass the other drivers if I wanted to win. That’s kind of the whole point.” 

The old woman laughed, “I know well what the purpose of racing is young man. What I’m more curious about is why someone is beating up their own personal vehicle on the race track.” She tapped the wheel of Link’s car with her cane for emphasis. Link scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. She wasn’t wrong nor was she saying anything he was not already well aware of. 

He had known that it was a risk ever since he had welded the roll cage onto his street car. It was never supposed to be raced as long as he had. He had hoped a few races would be all that would be necessary before getting the chance to drive something he didn’t also need to pay the repair bills for. But as the years had gone on and his career had stalled before even getting off the line that dream had faded until there was little left. And yet even with the knowledge that there was no new ride coming he could not bring himself to do the rational thing and stop putting his only means of transportation at risk.

The fact that it was still in driving condition at all was a testament to luck as much as anything else. Even as good as Link liked to think he was he knew that even he made mistakes and not everything would be in his control. His car’s days would come to an end eventually, be it from an error on his part, a mechanical failure he could not fix, or some other driver who was even more reckless than him. 

And with his wages he knew that it’s replacement would likely be a bus pass than anything he could take back to the track.

“What else am I supposed to race?” Link asked the woman with a shrug, “This is all I have and that’s not about to change anytime soon.”

“Perhaps it does not have to be.”

For the first time in the conversation Link felt his interest peak. He looked back to the woman and wondered if he had misjudged her. He had not actually thought about what the elderly looking Sheikah might want from him. He certainly had not envisioned the conversation taking this turn. He felt a tinge of hope rising in his chest but did not dare endulge the feeling so soon lest he be let down.

“I’m listening.”

“I won’t lie young man. You’re good. Reckless but good.” She paused to scold him with her walking cane, “If you could keep your head on your shoulder you might just be suited for a career as a driver.”

“And are you saying this just to be nice or do you actually have a way to help with that?” Link replied.

“Patience young man. It is one of the skills that seperates a good driver from a great racer.” 

His desire for the woman to get to whatever her point was had replaced his urgency to start his journey home. He was far too curious to just pack up and leave now. He found himself leaning forward as he waited for the Sheikah woman to continue.

“Tell me why do you race?” 

Link paused unsure of how to answer. Was it the excitement? That was surely part of it. Was it the hope of achieving glory, fortune and fame? He couldn’t deny that he had fantasized about those things more than a few times. Although if that had been what drove him then he would have quit long ago rather than face financial trouble. After a moment of quiet Link finally spoke up to answer.

“It’s just…. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” He gave a shrug, “I love the challenge. The feeling of pushing the car to the limit and keeping it right on the edge of control, all while inches away from some other car as we battle for every inch...” Link trailed off, unsure of how to describe the feeling. However a look to the Sheikah woman sitting across from him showed a knowing smile. “I’ve just never found anything else quite like it.”

“So you’re the competitive sort then? That would explain the aggression I saw out of you on the track today.” The woman eyed him up under the brim of her hat before adding under her breath, “And it would probably explain more than a few of the dents in your car as well.”

Link chuckled, finding himself growing somewhat endeared to the short old sheikah. “What can I say? I’ve raced enough to know that I’m not a fan of losing.” He shook his head. “Second sucks.” The blunt addition to his statement earned a raised eyebrow from the woman.

“As good as you were out there I doubt you’ve managed to win every race you started.” 

“Obviously not.” Link replied with a wave of his hand. “But a bad day at the track is better than a good day almost anywhere else but I’m here to win. I don’t like to settle or think I left anything on the track.”

“And yet despite that competitive drive you’re here at a tiny club event racing for what?” She looked down at the worn out tire she was sitting on and gave it a firm pat, “I hope however much you won it was at least enough money to replace these things.”

Link flinched. She was not wrong. In fact her words were uncomfortably true. As hard as he had tried over the years he had made practically no progress. He had made no starts in any major or even junior series. Nobody had even ever asked him to test their car before. At this point the only thing that was keeping his racing career, and it would be charitable to even call this obsessive hobby a career, alive was the fact that he was pouring what little personal money he had into it. He was one bad wreck or part failure away from being dead in the water. 

“Every team owner I’ve ever talked to seemed more concerned with money than ability.” Link shook his head. “Maybe they’re just being polite about thinking I’m not that good but they always want to know if I can bring a sponsor to the team.”

“And have you ever had the money?”

“If I did I sure as hell wouldn’t be here.” He waved his hand out, “I’d be out there somewhere trying to make a name for myself. Trying to win races that mattered and get championships.”

“So if you had a chance to drive in a race that mattered, say…. the Hateno 500, would you take it?” Link paused at the woman’s question. Was she being serious? Because it almost sounded like she had a chance to offer him. Thinking back on the conversation he realized that without him noticing it had become almost like a job interview. He winced in embarrassment at missing the overtone.

At least she hadn’t asked him what his greatest weakness was.

Regaining his composure he looked the elerly Sheikah right in the eye and spoke the words that came naturally to him.

“In a heartbeat. Hateno is….” He let out a yearning filled sigh. “Well I’ve always wanted to go there.”

A moment of silence passed as the Sheikah looked Link up and down, seemingly in deep thought. Link felt a tinge of hope but dare not let himself believe it. Just as he could stand the silence not a moment longer the Sheikah woman finally spoke up.

“Next weeked there is going to be a test session.” She pulled a business card from her shirt pocket, scribbling a note on the back. “Show up at ten and not a moment later. I can’t make any promises but if you’re on pace by the end of the session there just might be a racing seat in it for you.” 

She stood from her seat on the used tire and stepped up to Link to hand him the card. Link could hardly believe it as he read the address and date on the back. He finally had a shot. After years of trying this could finally be his big break. It took him a moment to actually comprehend what he had just been told. When he finally accepted that the in his hand and the woman who gave it to him were real he had to tear his attention away.

“Thank you so much I won’t…” He trailed off when he noticed the woman was not standing where she had been a moment ago. Jumping to his feet he looked around the garage but could not find the Sheikah. For a moment he began to doubt whether the whole conversation had actually happened before he remembered that proof was in his hand. Taking one more look at the card he read the words on the front.

“Impa Sage… Silent Princess Engineering.” He searched his mind. He recalled hearing that team name before but could remember little about it. “Whoever you are… Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

The card went into his pocket as Link returned to his preparations to leave. The hurry was gone from his labor however. What did it matter when he got home tonight? With his pounding heart and gleeful excitement he knew he wouldn’t be getting much sleep either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo another chapter! Once again thank you so much for reading and a special thanks to those who left comments and reviews. 
> 
> Also remember how last chapter I encouraged you all to watch the real life races taking place this weekend? Well apparently I jinxed things even harder than usual and both events I mentioned have been canceled and their series postponed for the time being for reasons that I'm sure will be obvious. 
> 
> So I'll be writing this to help fill a racing shaped hole in my heart for the next few weeks. Stay safe and healthy everybody, I wish you the best.


	4. Subdued Meetings

Link’s fingers drumed nervously on the steering wheel as he sat alone in the empty parking lot. The sun beat down on him through a cloudless sky and caused sweat to gather on his forehead. One arm went up to wipe the perspiration before he checked his watch as he had at least two dozen times since he had arrived. It was five minutes until ten in the morning which meant it was almost time to meet with somebody from the team as the old Sheikah woman had instructed.

Showing up a few minutes before nine he had sat in the parking lot for a little over an hour now working up a sweat in the brutal morning sun. He had been so paranoid about being at the track on time he had set multiple alarms to make sure he didn’t oversleep, and had left with plenty of time to spare. And yet even with the generous cushion of time he had he was still plagued with uncertainty that he had missed something somehow.

None of this actually felt real. Even with the grandstands of the race track towering in front of him leaving no doubt of where he was it still felt like a dream. After years of hoping that he might get a shot at a professional drive he could hardly believe it now that it was actually happening. He was half convinced that something would happen to end this before it actually even started. It was all too good to believe that it would go off without a hitch.

So distracted was Link by his worrying and the nervous pounding of his pulse in his ears that he missed the sound of footsteps on the asphalt as somebody approached his car. It was not until he felt a tapping on his shoulder did he realize he was no longer alone. 

“You must be that Forrester kid Impa told us about.” came a deep woman’s voice. Glancing up Link found the speaker towering over him. Even with the glare of the sun behind her it was easy to tell that she was a Gerudo if only from her height alone. 

“I am he.” Link answered, immediately wincing at his clumsy, nervous wording. If he could not even speak straight then this would be a difficult day indeed. The Gerdo woman simply stared at Link for a moment with a raised eyebrow as she appraised the young Hylian. 

“Right… well then what are you waiting for? Come with me.” Without waiting for him she turned around and began to walk back the way she came. Link jumped out of the open top of his car to hurry after her, only to end up turning around and coming back for his forgotten helmet, gloves, and head restraint. If the woman had noticed his delay she did not show it meaning Link had to run to catch back up with her after collecting his things. 

Once he finally had caught back up with her and matched her hurried pace he was finally able to get a good look at her. She was easily more than a head taller than him, with deep red hair and a stern serious expression. She wore a loose fitting blouse and dress pants but it wasn’t hard to tell that the clothing hid some impressive muscles. Link caught himself wondering what role she played in the team. Was she a driver or a mechanic? She certainly seemed fit enough for it, although were that the case she wasn’t exactly dressed for a test. No the clothing meant she must have some sort of high up role in the team, which meant she was likely to be one of the ones deciding if Link got the drive or not.

The walk from the Parking lot into the track was an uncomfortable one. As Link hurried to keep up with the Gerudo woman’s long strides. The lone sound of their footsteps did little to fill the silence but Link could not fill it any better himself. He felt the need to say something but could not think of what that something was. This person could very well be one of the deciding voices in whether he moved beyond this test or not. What could he say to show that her and the team’s faith had not been misplaced?

By the time they approached the tunnel to take them underneath the track and into the garage area Link realized that he simply did not know what to say and perhaps it was better that he did not. They wanted him here to drive after all, not to talk. 

He would have to do his talking behind the wheel.

“Quiet one aren’t you?” Urbosa asked, glancing back at him with an inspecting look, “Don’t worry it will be a nice change of pace. Our other driver does more than enough talking for the both of you.”

They reached the underside of the tunnel and for the first time Link could see the track itself. The high banked turns towered over them and stretched out for what seemed like forever. The straight aways between the turns were long but compared to the turns they seemed so short. The grandstands which towered above even the turns were empty today but Link felt that if he closed his eyes he could almost imagine the roar of tens of thousands of fans rising above the roar of a full field of cars.

The sound of footsteps on pavement shook him out of his day dreaming. But it was not the sound of Urbosa continuing her way to the garage. When Link looked in the direction of the sound he instead saw somebody else approaching.

“This is him then? The one that Impa told us about?” Asked the Hylian woman. She was about Link’s height but a bit taller. Long Blond hair fell down over her shoulders onto a blouse that was stained with oil and grease. Her pants were in much the same state, bearing the familiar scuffs and stains that Link recognized well from his hours working on his own car. Link’s first guess was that she was one of the mechanics but there was something else about her and the way she carried herself that told him she was more than that. 

His suspicions were confirmed when Urbosa stepped up to introduce her.

“It is.” The Gerudo woman replied simply and bluntly, “Link this is Zelda. She owns and operates the team but she pulls double duty as the head engineer as well.” Link held out his hand to shake hers which Zelda accepted only briefly. 

“Thank you for coming here. Impa was a bit brief about your experience. You have driven an open wheel car before, correct?” Link winced at the question, already feeling his shot at the drive slipping away.

“I have not.” he answered, shaking his head, “I’ve only ever been able to ace my street car at some short club races.”

Zelda's brow furrowed at Link’s answer. “So you’re saying you’ve never driven one of these cars before?” When Link could only confirm her statement with a sheepish nod she continued.

“I see… I was expecting… Well Impa had told us….” Zelda tripped over her words before stopping to collect herself and turning to look towards her coworker, “Urbosa could you come with me, there are some matters of the car I need to discuss with you.” Without waiting for an answer she grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her along, only remembering to signal Link to follow after they were already several paces away.

They began to make their way to the garage area, Link a few paces behind the women taking in the sights as they made their way through the garage. However he could not help but overhear when Zelda began to speak to her colleague in a hushed tone.

“What was Impa thinking when she sent him to us? This is going to be our last shot and we’re supposed to count on somebody who’s never done this before?”

Urbosa shot a glance back to Link before doing a slightly better job at speaking quietly, “Impa saw him drive so it’s not like she just plucked him off the street. Besides we still need somebody to drive the second car.”

“What if he crashes the car today? Zelda shot back before remembering that she was trying to be quiet, “He’s never driven anything like this before and we’re about to ask him to go two hundred miles per hour out there. We won’t have a second car for anybody to drive if he wrecks it. And if we don’t have a second car then Guardian Auto Parts isn’t going to give us the money we need to run a first car!”

Link wanted to interject but could not find the words. What could he even say that would give her some confidence in him when she wasn’t even wrong? He had never done anything like this before. Racing his roadster on weekends was nothing compared to what he was about to do. Link wasn't even sure how much confidence he had in himself.

“I’m sure he won’t be that bad.” Link breathed a small sigh of relief. Urbosa at least seemed to have some faith in him, “Impa knows what to look for in a driver. She’s the one who found the Rito after all.” Or at least trusted that whatever Impa saw in him wasn’t just the old Sheikah’s imagination. Thankfully this seemed to be just enough for Zelda, who angrily glared back at Link before letting out a huff and storming forward to get the garage.

Urbosa came to a stop and so did Link a few steps behind her. Realizing that he had overheard them she shot Link a sympathetic glance. 

“I’m sorry, she’s not usually like this. Don’t worry, it’s not like you carry blame in any of this.” She let out a sigh as she looked back to Zelda who was still angrily stomping towards the garage. “It’s unfortunate. She’s put in more than enough time and effort into this team. We all have. And yet she has nothing to show for it.” She shook her head. “So please forgive her if she’s putting a lot of pressure on you, she’s under a lot of pressure herself.”

Link gave her an understanding nod but did not feel much better himself. He wasn’t even on the team yet and he could feel the pressure. The weight of an entire race team pressed down onto his shoulders. It would have been nice if Zelda had shown some confidence in him but he could hardly blame her for not doing so. 

He would just have to give her some reason to trust him. He would have to get in the car and prove to her, the team, and to himself that he could do it.

Urbosa motioned for him to follow and a few minutes later they found themselves at the open door to the garage. Link’s eyes cut through the whirlwind of activity in the small work area to look at what he had been waiting all day, if not his entire life, to see. Sitting there in the center of the garage was the car. He had seen cars like it plenty of times on television before but seeing it in person made the reality of his situation set in. He was going to drive it. After years of trying and failing to get an opportunity like this he was finally going to drive one.

The car was the result of decades of work and countless cars before it refining the design into what sat before him. The entire car was low to the ground with barely two inches separating the floor of the car from the oil stained concrete beneath it. At the front a sleek pointed nose with two long wings on either side stood out to cut through the air before forming into a cone that stretched back to the cockpit, the shape uninterrupted except for the wheels and suspension pieces that jutted out just in front of the driver. On either side of the cockpit sat the side pods, designed to take in air to cool and feed the hot and hungry engine. The engine itself sat just behind the driver, currently exposed from the lack of a cover as a mechanic worked on the complex and powerful machine. At the back of the car behind the engine and above the rear wheels sat a small and sleek wing, a counterpart to the wing which stuck out of the nose of the car. Together they gave the impression that the vehicle was meant more for flight than driving. Were it not for the wheels it would have looked more like a fighter jet than anything meant to be on the ground.

He was only taken out of his gazing when the Gerudo woman next to him cleared her throat to alert the entire garage to his presence. 

“All right everybody Listen up. This is that driver Master Impa told us about.” She gestured at him with a thumb and a nod of her head, “He’ll be testing the car today so we can see if he’s worth as much as Impa thinks he is.” She paused and then, as if to add some levity to the introduction added, “If we’re lucky he’ll at least keep the car out of the walls.”

Link gave an awkward smile and wave to the people scattered around the garage. It wasn’t exactly the vote of confidence from Urbosa he was hoping for after what Zelda had said but he reminded himself that he would just have to prove himself out on the track. Whether the other people around the garage shared the team owner’s sense of doubt he could not tell but at least they saw him fit enough to introduce themselves to.

First up was the man who was working on the engine when they walked in. He had the familiar white hair and facial features of a Sheikah and wore over his eyes a set of thick goggles. It was not until he held out his hand for Link to shake that he realized just how short the man was, needing a step stool to elevate himself enough to actually work on the engine. However it was immediately clear that what the man lacked in physical stature he more than made up for with sheer enthusiasm as he launched into an energetic introduction.

“Ah yes yes yes! So happy to have you on board. Well at least I hope you’ll be on board, we’ll see how the test goes right? Either way the challenge of working with new drivers has always been one of my favorite parts of the job.” He went on as he shook Link’s hand, his other hand wildly gesturing with each word before coming to rest on his shoulder. “Now what did Impa say your name was? Was it Lincoln… no it was… Blink…. No wait it was Lonk.”

“It’s Link. Link Forrester.” Link cut him off before the Sheikah man could butcher his name any further in his attempts to guess it. “And you are?”

“Hm? Me? Are you serious?! It seems I got so excited I forgot to introduce myself! I'll start over, hm? I am the lead engineer and mechanic for Silent Princess Engineering. If something goes wrong I’ll probably be the one to fix it. The name is Robbie.”

“Hah! Lead engineer he says.” Came a high pitched, almost childlike voice from the other side of the car. Link looked for the source but did not see anybody. “Robbie’s just trying to make himself seem more important. We both know he does more fixing than designing. Especially when some new idea of his goes horribly wrong.” 

The speaker finally became visible as they walked around the nose of the car. It was another Sheikah and this one was even shorter than Robbie was. Had the woman not been covered in grease, so much as to almost block her thick rimmed glasses, he would have assumed she was a child. 

“You’re one to talk about failed ideas Purah.” The Sheikah man shot back to his coworker, “I seem to recall you almost burning down the shop when your last attempt to tweak the engine caught fire.”

“And that modification also gave us a bit more engine power without a hit to fuel mileage.” The short Sheikah woman shot back. “Sometimes risks just have to be made in the pursuit of my genius ideas.” 

The two engineers continued to bicker before a tap on Link’s shoulder drew his attention/ Turning around he came face to face with a red and white skinned Zora woman. Link was a bit surprised to see a Zora out in this hot weather but the large bottle of water in her hand indicated that the heat was hardly a cake walk for her. Nonetheless she gave Link a warm smile as she shook his hand. 

“I’m the team physician, you can call me Mipha. I’ll be doing your physical and make sure you’re fit to drive the car. And hopefully that is all I will be doing today.” She let the implication hang. If anything went wrong today she would be the first one at the scene of the crash.

“It’s nice to meet your Mipha. Hopefully I won’t require your services beyond the physical.” He returned her smile. 

Urbosa cleared her throat to get both of their attention. “As much as I’m sure you’d like to get to know everybody we’re on a tight schedule today. The quicker we get things done the more running out on track we can do.” 

“She’s right.” added Mipha. “You’re probably eager to get in the car anyways so if you’ll follow me we can do your physical in private and you can get down to business.” 

Link nodded in approval before following her out of the room. In the hallway outside of the garage sat a Rito. Realizing that he must also be part of the team Link held out his hand for a shake.

“You must be the other Driver. I’m Link, it’s nice to meet you.”

The Rito turned his attention from the helmet in it’s feathery hands and eyed Link with a look of annoyance. 

“Ahh yes. You must be the number two driver the sponsors are foisting upon on us.” He stood from his seat. As he brought up his hand Link believed for a moment that his soon to be colleague was going to return the handshake. Instead however he simply brought his hand up to his forehead, rubbing it as if in great thought.

“I simply do not understand why it is they thought you necessary.” He continued to speak, shaking his head as he did so, “After all this is only a silly oval race, a trivial matter to somebody of my skill level.”

Link raised an eyebrow and frowned slightly, “Hateno really isn’t that easy to win-” He was cut off by the other driver.

“Nonsense! It is only turning left. With the tracks I have mastered before I could probably drive around Hateno with my eyes closed.” 

Link opened his mouth to respond only to be once again cut off by the Rito before he could get a word in edgewise.

“I’m sure it must be quite the challenge to one such as you however. That is why I struggle to understand why the sponsors insisted on a second car. What point will it be to have their name on a car thats….” he paused to run a contemptful eye up and down Link, “wherever it is you shall finish when all the attention will be on me in victory lane?”

Link wasn’t sure what to say to the Rito. He didn’t even know what he could say. Assuming he could even get a few words in without the driver speaking over him again it seemed unlikely that his words would even be paid attention to. As he tried to think of something to say he realized that the Rito had not even bothered to give his name. 

Thankfully Mipha chose this time to step in, rolling her eyes at the Rito driver as she spoke. “Link I’m sure you and Revali have much to talk shop about but we really must get to your physical examination.” She took a hold of Link’s arm and began to pull him along. Link followed without protest, simply glad not to have to be out of conversation with Revali. Once they were out of earshot Link mouthed a silent thank you to the medic who giggled slightly in response.

“Revali is actually quite a good driver. Although I’m certainly happy I’m not the one who has to be on his radio during the race.”

The rest of the walk to the track’s medical center was not a long one and they soon found themselves stepping through the door into the medical center. On race days the small doctor’s office would be staffed with professionals, checking up on drivers who were caught up in crashes and treating those who were hurt. If the safety equipment in the cars failed this room was where the battle for life and death would take place. Link found his mind start to wander at the thought of how many lives might have been saved in this very room. It was a stern reminder of just how dangerous what he was about to do actually was.

“Hopefully you won’t give me cause to use this room more than once today.” Said Mipha as she gestured around the room. Stepping up to the counter she began to rummage through a bag she had left earlier. “I have a series of exams I need to run on you to determine if you are healthy enough to safely drive the car. We’re going to test your reflexes, blood pressure, resting heart rate, muscle strength, eyesight, and hearing.” 

Link swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling much like the car that was being examined and worked on back in the garage. His discomfort must have shown on his face because when the Zora doctor looked back to him she let out a small giggle.

“Don’t worry, none of this will be anything invasive.” Mipha said before holding up a small rubber reflex hammer and giving Link a smirk. “Let's start by testing your reflexes shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to have another chapter out. Wish I could have posted this last weekend but I couldn't finish it in time. This chapter was originally supposed to be longer and include the actual test session but then I realized that was going to be too long. I figured out too late that I would need to cut it in half. This chapter was just to introduce the other characters and their role in the team. 
> 
> Also I did my best to describe the car in this chapter while keeping it relatively brief. If you're curious to see what I was describing just do a quick look for an indycar. That's what the car is since the race I'm leading this part up to is basically the Indy 500. Speaking of which the race was officially delayed from may to august this week so hopefully writing this fic will help fill that hole come memorial day weekend.
> 
> Thanks again everybody for reading and reviewing. And a big thanks to webcomixwastaken on Tumblr for giving this fic a shout out. Somebody on a discord server I'm on linked your post and I very much appreciate your kind words. With any luck you won't end up regretting telling people to read this lol.
> 
> Have a good one everybody. Stay safe and healthy in these crazy times. If you have the means I would recommend donating to a food bank to help those that are in difficult financial circumstances due to the pandemic. That and giving blood would be very helpful, I still need to find a time and place to give some.


	5. A Major Test of Skill

The cockpit of the car was cramped, incredibly so. Upon first climbing and lowering himself down to sit in the car Link thought it was a miracle that he even fit. The foot well was just barely wide enough to put both of his legs into and they now say with thick padding separating them just above the knees. Higher up things were not much better. There was just enough room for Link to squeeze into and with such a small amount of space his options for movement were limited to say the least. 

Purah and Robbie had helped him complete the necessary tasks to get him settled into the car. First came the five point belt which would hold his torso in place in the event of a crash. Next came the head rest which snapped into the cockpit around his head and tightly cradled his helmet, which would rigidly keep his head still under the intense lateral G forces in the corners. Finally came the steering wheel which had been removed in order to maximize the limited space in the cockpit as Link got in. With it reattached to the steering column the full confines of Link’s prison were finally complete. 

“Nice and snug in there Linkie?” Purah asked, rapping her knuckles against his helmet as she spoke. In response Link nodded as much as his various restraints would allow. Without enough room to put his hands anywhere else they came to rest on the wheel which he began to nervously drum his fingers on. 

Link’s entire day had been building to this moment and yet it had taken a surprisingly long time. Even after Mipha had completed her examination and cleared him to drive, although not without the caveat that he step up his physical training regimen in the weeks before the race, his waiting was far from over. By the time he had put on his fire suit and returned to the garage Revali was already in the car and pulling out to get on the track. 

And so Link had waited in the garage with the team as they watched Revali turn lap. Zelda, Purah and Robbie had been engrossed in a set of computer screens showing an endless stream of data from the car’s on board computers. Despite the engineer’s constant note taking and discussion Link could make little sense of the onslaught of information that was being blasted over the screens. 

And so instead he had focused on what he could figure out. On the edge of the cluster of monitors sat a screen that was all but forgotten by the rest of the team, displaying the feed from a small camera mounted just above the driver’s head. The view from the camera provided a clear view of the wheel as Revali controlled the car through it, as well as a wide angle of the track in front of him. Link’s eyes were fixated on the sight as he tried to take note of the Rito’s careful movements of the wheel. However it was difficult to focus on anything from the camera feed past the overwhelming sense of speed.

Link knew these cars were fast but seeing it from this perspective was something else. The catch fence on either side of the track whizzed by so quickly as to appear as nothing more than a vague blur. The white dashed lines painted onto the track passed so quickly as to appear completely solid. The words Link had seen printed on the barriers on his way into the track shot by the screen so fast as to be completely unreadable. 

The feeling of speed conveyed through the screen alone was mesmerizing. For the first time today Link felt a pang of fear at what it might be like to actually be in the car. This car was an entirely different beast from his little roadster and he had known that going in. But now that he was looking at reality close up he wondered just how prepared he actually was. As fast as 230 miles per hour looked on the screen it would feel even faster in the cockpit.

Revali’s stint behind the wheel had taken a while to say the least. Despite Zelda telling him over radio that they had gotten all the information necessary he had stayed out turning lap after lap. Whether he was continuing to get a feel for the handling of the car, or had simply forgotten that the team wanted to test a new driver today Link could not tell. In the end the only thing that brought him back to the garage was the low fuel notification from the car’s computer. And even then he had not gotten out of the car right away, instead asking for more fuel and a fresh set of tires. Zelda seemed ready to grant the request and eager at the prospect of making adjustments to the car and getting another run worth of data to compare to the last. 

It was Urbosa who had talked her out of it, reminding her that they had not brought much extra fuel and only two sets of tires, enough for both Revali and Link to take a turn in the car and no more.

Now that Link was actually in the car he could feel his heart pounding in his chest despite the fact that he had yet to even put it in gear. His legs bounced nervously in what little room they had in the foot well as he awaited for permission to go. The engineering team sat around the same computers that they had watched Revali turn laps on, now running diagnostics and checks to make sure the car was ready to go back out on track.

“Radio check.” Zelda’s voice came through the helmet mounted headset. Link gave an affirmative thumbs up as he responded, only to hear the same voice come through once again. “You need to hit the radio button on the wheel if you want to talk.”

Link winced in embarrassment. Not exactly showing off his competence with that simple blunder.“Right, sorry.” He replied once he had found the appropriate button near his left thumb. 

“We have a few more tests we want to run before we send you out there.” It was Purah’s voice that came over the radio this time. Link thought she sounded somewhat amused at his mistake although from what he had seen of the Sheikah engineer so far she always seemed amused when she spoke. “Just give both of the pedals a quick squeeze, make sure they both work.

Link stepped down on the throttle reveling in the sound of the engine revving to life and the vibrations it sent through the seat. It was a high he quickly came down from when he pushed down on the brake pedal.

Or rather tried to push the pedal. 

“Something’s wrong, the brake isn't going in. I think something might be stuck behind the pedal.” Link rocked his head in frustration as he keyed up the mic. If his hunch was correct then fixing it would be a whole process. He would have to get out of the car and then repeat the hassle of climbing in. It was not something he was looking forward to.

“It’s working.” Robbie took his turn on the radio, “The pedal is supposed to be quite heavy. They need a lot of force to properly stop the car. You really need to put your muscles into it.”

Link did as he was told, immediately straining his leg to put as much force as he could into the pedal. He pushed himself further into the seat and if the object of his frustration was moving at all he could not feel it. Zelda’s voice came back over the headset as he struggled.

“Harder… Harder… A bit more pressure… a bit more.” Link compiled with all his strength and could still barely feel the pedal move. Finally after more than a minute of trying the strain had proven too much and Link released his foot from the pedal, grunting in soreness as his muscles burned.

“That should do I suppose.” Zelda said with a sigh. “You managed to hit about eighty percent pressure on the pedal. Although if you’re going to drive for us I would recommend adding an extra leg day to whatever training regimen Mipha gave you.”

Link’s jaw felt like it was about to drop out of the helmet. That was only eighty percent!? How was he supposed to use the brakes effectively like that? Especially when the G forces under deceleration would be likely to hinder his ability to leverage the pressure he needed. 

“Don’t worry Linkie, with the amount of grip this car has and the high banking in the turns you shouldn’t need to use the brakes much if at all.” As if reading his mind Purah jumped back over the radio to calm his concerns, before adding almost as an afterthought, “Unless you crash that is.”

“And you better not.” Urbosa piped in, “Unless you want to spend the next few years paying off the repair bill.”

Link swallowed nervously. Something about the way she said it made him suspect that he would indeed have other problems if he crashed. And that went beyond the obvious that it meant his racing career would likely be dead before it even really got started.

But at least he would soon have something other than his nerves to focus on.

“All checks are done, we’re green across the board.” Robbie came on over the radio.

“We’re waiting on you Linkie, let’s get this show on the road!” His fellow Sheikah engineer added. 

With no reason or desire to delay any longer Link pulled in on the shift paddle by his right hand to put the car into gear. The car lurched into motion and he carefully drove it out of the garage area and out into the pits. 

The drive down pit road was agonizingly long, especially with the speed limiter engaged to keep the car at a safe speed for the time being. Knowing that the car could go so much faster than the measly 60 miles an hour made it feel all the more like he was putting along on a motor scooter down a busy highway. Although the track was empty he could just imagine them speeding by on track, probably able to put at least a lap on him while he was crawling down the pits. It was only when he reached the end of the pits and the entry onto the track itself was he able to press the button on the steering wheel to disable the limiter.

And then he squeezed the gas pedal to the floor.

It was a careful movement, held back by concern that he would lose traction in the still cold rear tires and go spinning. 

But even as restrained as he was the acceleration was unlike anything he had ever felt. He could feel himself being pushed back into the seat and as he went through the first two turns on the apron of the track he was pushed to the right even more. Were it not for all the restraints Link thought he might go flying out of the car right now. 

And he wasn’t even close to up to speed yet.

The car picked up speed and downforce as it went making the steering heavier and heavier. WIthout power steering in the car Link knew this was just something he would have to get used to. Reaching the back straightaway he finally felt comfortable enough to take the car out into the racing line. The shift lights on the steering wheel raced through their multi colored progression as he took the car up through the gears. It took just seconds to traverse the long back straightaway and for Link to find himself diving down the banking into turn one. 

He had never taken a corner that was even close to this. The high banking and even higher speeds made for an all out assault on his senses. The sound of the engine roaring behind him, the sight of the track shooting past him, and the feeling of being down into the seat with the force of almost 5Gs was an intensity unlike anything he had ever imagined. 

Were his mind not already in overdrive trying to keep up with his surroundings he might have considered the daunting task of doing this in a full field with cars just inches away from him.

Before he knew it he was already exiting the turn and returning to the front straightaway. As he went through both dog legs to begin his first flying lap he could not help but let out an excited yell for the crew back in the garage to hear.

Or at least they would have had he remembered to key the mic.

Going down into turn one at speed for the first time Link backed off the throttle to let the car roll into the corner. He knew from watching revali that doing so was not necessary but without knowing what the car handled like at these speeds he did not want to risk it. The muscles in his arms tensed up as he turned the heavy wheel as cautiously as he could, fearing the consequences of any twitchy or overdone movements. 

It had been a long time since Link felt fear behind the wheel of a race car. Even when his roadster had lost its breaks one practice session he hadn’t felt half the fear that the concrete wall at the top of the track inspired in him at this moment. 

He tried not to think too much about the wall and whait it might be like to hit it at these speeds and instead remain focused on driving. As he felt the car settle into the banking he began to slowly put the throttle back down to make up for where he had lifted. As long as the turn was it passed by in a flash and he soon found himself rocketring down the back straightaway just inches from the wall. The posts of the catch shot by as if they were being fired from a machine gun. 

Turns three and four felt faster than the first two. The added confidence he was gaining in the car combined with the wider arc he took on entry combined to push him further. He tried to keep the car in the groove of rubber that Revali had laid down in his run but found that he could still not quite do it without lifting off the throttle. 

A brief moment of panic concluded the lap as he drove out of the corner only to feel the back of the car get light as the banking fell away. The oversteer was quick and easy to correct but with the razor thin margins he was working with he could feel his heart shoot up into his throat as he got the car back under control.

But still he had managed to complete his first lap with no major incidents. And if Revali was any indication he had plenty of laps left to go to go faster. As he took the car back down into the first turn he gathered up his courage in an effort to spend less time off the throttle and to hold a tighter line through the corner.

He would have to go faster if he was to prove himself, and he would have to push himself if he was to go faster.

He could only hope that by the time he ran out of fuel it would not feel like such a test of courage every time he turned the wheel.

* * *

Zelda’s attention bounced between the stream of technical data and the live feed from the onboard camera. She would not normally pay much thought to what the driver was seeing as she usually had other concerns. But if the purpose of this test was to evaluate Link’s performance then it would be wise to at least try and gauge how comfortable he was in the car.

And even if she weren’t it would be difficult not to look with the near constant stream of talking Revali was doing. The Rito driver had no shortage of feedback to give on his Hylian counterpart’s driving, and none of it was positive.

“He turned in too early that time.”

“He’s not holding the car low enough through the center of the corner.” 

“He lifted coming out of the turn there, probably lost a lot of time.”

As much as Zelda valued the input of her experienced driver she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at some of the comments. On at least one occasion Revali had thoughts to share about Link’s ability to drive in a straight line.

However whatever Revali was saying the lap times Link was putting down were saying something else. 

He was off the pace at first, which was understandable for somebody who had never driven something like this car before. But as he settled in he kept picking up speed until it was almost comparable to what Revali was putting down. Granted he had a slight advantage over his would be teammate in that Revali’s tires had laid down rubber and given the track more grip for his run. But nonetheless she found his performance to be at least satisfactory. He was not setting the track on fire but perhaps with practice he would become even more competitive. 

That’s what she thought anyway until the mistakes became more noticable. Revali would not even need to point them out for her to see them, not that he let that stop him.

First came a lap where Link entered a bit too high going into the third turn. Sticking his right side tires out of the groove Link lost grip and the car began to oversteer. Looking at the video feed she could see Link fight the wheel as the car wiggled up the track. He managed to regain control but he still got much closer to the wall than Zelda was comfortable with.

The second came as Link brought the car too low on the track going through the first two corners. His left side tires clipped the apron where the lesser banking took away the car’s ability to turn, sending Link up the track. He lifted off the throttle in an attempt to reign the car back under control however it came a fraction of a second too late and he ended up brushing against the wall on exit of the corner. 

“Sorry, that was my fault.” came a panicked voice over the radio not one second later. Zelda winced and grimaced as she feared the worse. However hard he hit the wall however Link seemed to think the car was still driving fine and continued on. Looking at the stream of data she breathed a sigh of relief at having somehow got away without any significant, and thus expensive, damage to the car.

Zelda’s expression was one of supreme annoyance as she keyed up the radio, “Obviously! We don’t have any spare cars, so keep it out of the wall and bring it back in one piece!” She shook her head and shot those around her a questioning look. Were they wondering the same thing she was wondering? What did Impa see in him? He’s fast but that doesn’t matter if he crashes the car.

At the very least Link seemed to take the warning seriously. Over the following laps she noticed that he was giving the walls a bit more space. His lap times suffered because of it but she was more concerned that he not pay another visit to the hard concrete wall with the very expensive race car. 

She watched the laps tick by and the fuel levels drop until there was not much left. Soon Link would have to bring the car back to the garage and the test would be over. Zelda wasn’t completely satisfied with what she had seen but thought he might do for what they needed. He was quick but inexperienced and it showed. His lap times were not as consistent as Revali’s and he was more prone to mistakes than Zelda was comfortable with. But at least he could follow instructions when told to take it easy.

Unfortunately it was not an impression that would last the final few laps.

* * *

Link had finally begun to grow used to driving the car. Even the spike of nerves from his close encounter with the wall had calmed down. 

Link would almost say he had grown bored. It was not as if he had become completely disinterested, and the speed of the car demanded his constant attention. However as he had stopped pushing in order to avoid any more close calls he found himself craving the excitement and even the sheer fear he had felt in his first few laps. 

Perhaps it was the fact that this was only a test and there were no other cars on track besides him but Link could not imagine driving a full race distance like this. This was a race car after all and as such it was meant to be pushed, to be driven on the ragged edge of grip and control. 

And so when Zelda came back over the radio to inform him he had about five laps of fuel remaining and that he would soon need to bring it back into the garage he saw an opportunity. The less fuel he had the less the car would weigh. That would make the car faster, if only marginally so. Even with the tires worn down and providing less grip, Link saw an opportunity, a challenge that he could not turn down.

After all, what better way to end the test and show off his abilities and remind the team of his potential value than to put in his fastest laps right before the end of the session?

Links foot became heavier on the throttle pedal and he even pulled his other foot off and away from the brakes. He did not want to be tempted by the pedal and risk ruining a good lap. Over the next few laps he used more and more of the track’s width, coming closer and closer to the wall which had so closely menaced him earlier in the test. He could feel the tires struggling to offer the grip he needed but paid it little attention. If he could only adjust his line just right or perfect his execution for only a single lap, he knew he could set a new fastest lap. 

It all came to a head with just two laps to go.

He had gotten through the first two turns near perfectly, cutting the car lower in the middle of the corner, almost coming down onto the flat apron of the track. He had to fight to get the car to turn on exit but fortunately because he had been lower down hein the center of the corner he had precious extra inches of room to work with.

Turns three and four went much the same and Link felt confidence that he was about to set a new personal best. 

Until it all came undone on the exit of turn four. 

The banking in turn four tapered off and transitioned to the flat straight away faster than it did in turn two. Less banking meant less grip and unfortunately for Link grip was already in short supply. The car drifted up out of the racing line and to Link’s terrible realization, off of the line he knew would keep him out of the wall.

As much as he loathed to do so he knew he had to slow the car down if he was to make the corner. His foot lifted off of the throttle and his arms pushed the steering wheel as far as over as he could. Fractions of a second ticked by like minutes as the front of the car slowly began to grip regain traction with the asphalt beneath. 

And then in the blink of an eye they suddenly gripped more than he was expecting, and with his deacceleration taking weight off of the rear tires, more than the balance of the car could stand. 

Link’s arms snapped the wheel right in a desperate attempt to keep the car pointed in the right direction.

But it was too late.

The rear of the car snapped around and Link suddenly found himself facing the pit road wall across the infield grass, followed by the turn he had just come out of. 

Link was spinning, and he had no control of the car to make it stop. His hands sawed at the wheel to try and regain some semblance of control and his foot planted down the brakes as hard as he could manage. But whatever his efforts accomplished quickly became irrelevant as he crossed onto the infield grass. He was along for the ride as his efforts on the steering wheel and the brakes would mean little to nothing without pavement beneath him that the tires could hold onto. And without the friction from the asphalt he would not even slow down as quickly as long as he remained in the grass.

The suspension of the car was stiff, not designed to and not needing to absorb bumps on a near perfectly smooth track. The grass on the other hand was far from smooth. The full force of every bump could be felt as the wheels and floor of the car bounced across the dirt and grass. Even as tightly secured in the cockpit as he was Link still felt as though he were being thrown around violently as each impact sent a sharp wave of pain up his back. 

This went on for what felt to Link like hours, although it was in reality only a few seconds. To his amazement he finally came off the grass and onto the pit road. With precious pavement finally beneath him once again he was able to regain control and miraculously was even facing the correct way. His body untensed, releasing the painfully tight grip he had held the wheel with as he let out a sigh of relief. 

The spinning had managed to put a flat spot on the tires, causing them to loudly and rhythmically thud as he slowly drove down the pits. Although Link could not hear it over the even faster and louder pounding of his pulse. When the radio suddenly keyed up and he heard the voice of a very irritated and angry Zelda he could have jumped out of the car in shock were it not for the restraints.

“That’s enough out of you for the day. Bring it on in and try not to hit anything on the way back to the garage.”

Link let out a silent curse at himself and his luck. His first and perhaps only opportunity to prove himself behind the wheel and get his career moving and he had to go and spin it. The car hadn’t hit the wall so there should not be any serious damage. Nonetheless however it did not make for the impression Link was trying to give to his potential employers. Would they be forgiving for his mistake? Would his earlier performance make up for his near wrecking of the car? Link was not in an optimistic mood.

“Got it, I’m coming in…. I’m sorry.” Link mumbled apologetically and repeated when he remembered to turn on his own radio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm glad to finally get this chapter done and uploaded. It took me a while because I was afraid it might become a bit of a slog to read, and it didn't help that I started using Iracing and that has consumed much of my free time over the past few weeks. Hopefully this chapter came out all right and you all enjoyed it. I wanted to get it out today since today should have been the day both the Monaco Grad Prix and the Indianapolis 500 should have taken place, two races which will inspire two races in this story.
> 
> If it helps anybody visualize the track I imagined this test taking place at was inspired by Texas Motor Speedway. Fun fact: In April of 2001 CART went there in similar cars to what Link is driving. The race had to be canceled because average lap speeds of over 230 miles per hour were causing sustained G loads (up to 5 Gs) which caused concern about drivers passing out. That is how fast those cars and tracks are.
> 
> As much as I would have liked to further along in this story by now, and as much as I would have liked to be uploading this either before leaving for, or coming back from, the Indy 500 life had other things in mind. I'm happy to have at least gotten this fic moving again, however slowly.
> 
> Some of you have asked if Daruk will be in this story and I do have some ideas in mind for him. Unfortunately what roles I did have ideas for just didn't fit yet but rest assured our favorite Goron Champion will come in sooner or later. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you all have been staying safe and healthy and will continue to do so. Until next time, have a good one.


	6. Stilted Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link arrives at the shop hoping to sign a contract, and Zelda looks for any alternatives.

“Absolutely not.” Zelda proclaimed, slapping the folder down onto her desk. “There Simply must be better options for us. She fell back into her seat, letting out a sigh of deep frustration before looking to the two other women in her office. Urbosa sat directly across from her, hurriedly going over many of the same papers that she was.

Impa meanwhile sat cross legged on a couch on the side of the room. She took occasional sips from her tea and didn’t seem to be paying too much attention. That was until she would chime in whenever the stressed out team owner said something silly.

“Were that the case then surely we would have found them already.” The elder Shiekah said, not even bothering to look at Zelda as she said so. The Hylian shot her an annoyed look before continuing her argument.

“We haven’t even exhausted our other options yet.” She paused to look through a list of potential drivers on her laptop, “What about Dorian, that Shiekah driver who retired the other year? He certainly has the experience we need. We might be able to lure him into making a comeback.” 

“And how would we be able to pay him? I doubt he would come cheap.” It was Urbosa who pointed out the obvious flaw in this strategy. 

“We could probably find another sponsor willing to sign on for him. They could cover his paycheck and maybe even have some left over for the team!” It was an idea as optimistic as it was unrealistic. One look from Urbosa confirmed that she knew it just as well as Zelda.

“Even if we could find a sponsor to cover his costs, I don’t think he would take it. He said he was retiring to spend more time with his daughters. I doubt he would put himself in danger for another race.”

“Then we can find another driver with a personal sponsor then! Somebody with experience who could basically drive for free.” Zelda grasped for options.

“And who would that be? We’re less than a month out from the race, anybody with enough sponsorship money to pay for a seat has probably already found a team. And it’s not like we have what we need to lure anybody away from another team.” Urbosa shot back. Zelda was nonplussed, returning to her laptop to scroll through the list once again looking for options.

“Why are you so dead set against him anyways?”

“We need somebody with experience. There’s too much riding on this race for us to gamble on a rookie like this.” Zelda answered, “The future of this team is at stake and we can’t just have him going out and spinning like he did during the test.” 

Zelda glanced out the office window, down at the small garage that had been the heart of the team. Despite its modest size it was the fruit of countless hours of work towards a dream. She had put her blood. sweat, and tears into this team along with Purah, Robbie, and Urbosa. As highly as Impa had spoken of Link, Zelda was still loathe to put her team in the hands of a driver who was fresh from club races with no experience in proper race cars.

And she could not deny some resentment in letting some nobody jump ahead without having worked for the team like she had.

“As I said, what other options do we have available to us?” Interjected Urbosa, “As much as I would love to have somebody who has more experience there is nobody like that available that we could afford to pay.” 

A moment passed by in silence as Zelda wrestled with this inconvenient fact. Wracking her mind she tried to think of some way around it, of some other option that they had simply not thought of. To both her and Urbosa’s surprise it was Impa who broke the quiet as she spoke for the first time since sitting down with her tea.

“Do you hope to have both of your cars win the race?” 

Zelda tried to answer, “Well no, obviously not but-”.

“Then the important thing right now is to make sure we have two cars on track. If we can not even fulfill this condition the sponsor has asked of us then the skill of this young man is a moot point.” 

“She’s right” Urbosa added, “The race is fast approaching and we’re running out of time to put together what we need for a second car.”

“And a new driver who’s had some time to get comfortable with the team may be better than an experience one hired at the last minute.”

Zelda sat back in her chair, frustratingly unable to refute these points. As good as they were the prospect of actually signing Link still felt like a tough pill to swallow. It would be difficult to talk Impa and Urbosa out of it however so she felt like she had little choice. She glanced down to her desk and to the multiple contract drafts that sat upon it when an idea struck her. 

She may not be able to turn Link down without earning her friend’s disapproval, but perhaps she could get him to say no instead.

“All right, but first thing’s first, we need to see if he’ll actually agree to our terms.”

“Welcome to the shop Little Guy!” The Goron happily bellowed, his voice deep and loud enough to be heard even over Link’s coughing and weezing brought about by the playful slap on the back he had been given in lieu of a handshake which had thoroughly knocked the wind out of the young Hylain. If the Goron connected Link’s discomfort to his actions, or even noticed it at all, he didn’t let it damper his enthusiasm.

“You must be the one the big wigs picked to drive the second car for the big race.” He said, holding his arms out as if he were about to bring Link in for a hug, a prospect that Link was hardly recovered for. 

“Not quite yet.” came the familiar voice of Revali, as smug and contemptuous as it was back at the test session. “They are still discussing the matter in Zelda’s office so thankfully they still have time to come to their senses before they sign anything.” 

“Nonsense! I’m sure this kid is plenty fast enough for the team.” He gave Link, who was barely able to breathe normally again, a toothy reassuring grin. “Besides who else are they going to get? I’d do it but I cracked the chassis last time I tried to sit in one of those things. You don’t see Zelda upset too much but she was mighty angry at me for that.” He added with a deep laugh. For his part Revali simply rolled his eyes.

“The name’s Daruk by the way. I help the mechanics around the shop and on race day I also act as a spotter.” The Goron finally introduced himself, “Why don’t I take you up to the boss’s office so you can sign on the dotted line and officially join the most kick butt team in racing!”

“Didn’t you listen to me you oaf?” Revali interjected, “I said they're still discussing the matter. They would hardly be thrilled with you just barging in there with him in tow.” 

“Gah! You worry too much Revali. I’m sure he’s going to make the cut, aren’t you little guy?” Daruk punctuated his optimism with another slap to Link’s back. At this rate Link figured he would be lucky not to be knocked out by the time he met with Zelda. “Fine I’ll just show him around the shop then. That way we’ll be one step ahead once he does sign!”

Daruk began to walk him around the small shop, talking nearly non stop about the team and going off on tangents whenever he remembered a story. His enthusiasm for the team was infectious, not even waning when he walked past a nearly empty trophy case. What trophies were in the case were small, not from races of any prestige, and mostly represented good finishes instead of actual victories. But for each one Daruk would tell the story behind it, mostly about how they had “kicked serious tail.” or “pounded the poor competition.” 

The rest of the tour was fairly uneventful. For all his love of the team the Goron did not seem to have much to say about things such as the small paint booth or the station where clay models of cars were molded in order to help the engineers visualize what they were designing. Not that he was short of things to say about Zelda, Purah, Robbie, or Urbosa, but he seemed to quickly lose interest whenever describing anything technical. 

Before too long the impromptu tour came to an end in the main area of the garage. In the center of the large room sat the two cars that Revali and hopefully Link would drive in the upcoming Hateno 500. Both cars sat up on stands, missing so many pieces that they seemed to be closer to complete disassembly than being ready to race. Next to them on a nearby table sat both the engines each in a state of equal disassembly, parts strewn about as they were taken apart and inspected. 

As he looked around the garage and took in the sights. The room was cluttered and dirty with tools and parts scattered around wherever Purah or Robbie had dropped them during their work. And the air was filled with the smell of engine grease and oil. I wasn’t nearly the image of a spotless, organized, and professional garage of other teams he had seen online, but Link found he actually preferred it this way. 

It reminded him of his garage at home. The cramped quarters barely provided enough space for his car and room to work on it, and he could not recall a time he could have been able to call it clean or organized. So in a way the team shop felt familiar and surprisingly in his comfort zone. 

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement up above. Overlooking the garage sat a small office and through the glass Link could see Zelda animatedly speaking to Urbosa who sat across from her. Without the ability to hear what was being said Link’s anxious mind jumped to assume the worst. When Daruk called him over to another corner of the room he was thankful for the distraction. 

In the corner of the room sat two cars, both under tarps. One was long and thin while the other’s form was much harder to make out. Judging by the rather strange way the object under the tarp seemed to bend and the small collection of cracked and broken body panels resting near it Link could only assume whatever car was under it had experienced some sort of hard crash. For a moment he reached for one of the tarp, wanting to get a look at what lay underneath it before he stopped himself. He still wasn’t a member of the team yet, and so probably should go touching anything.

Luckily Daruk seemed more than happy to pick up on the slack and speak about the two race cars as excitedly as he had spoken about everything else on the tour.

“These here are two cars that the Boss has designed herself. She says they both have a lot of new ideas that she’s wanted to try.” His words only made Link more curious.

“What kind of ideas?” Link asked.

“Huh? Well like.. Air stuff and new engine tech.” Daruk explained poorly, “You would have to ask her for specifics. All those technical details and scientific mumbo jumbo never made much sense to me.” Daruk said with a scratch of his head. 

“Well have you had any good races with them?” Link followed up.

“Not yet.” Daruk said, his voice again not reflecting any damper in his enthusiasm, “One of them we’ve never been able to afford the entrance fee for the series it’s supposed to race in.” He said, gesturing to the long thin car, “And the other… well Revali went and crashed it. He says something in the car broke.”

“Did something break?”

“I don’t buy it. Zelda and the others build things to last and Revali would never admit he made a mistake anyways” 

That answer at least seemed reasonable to Link. With what little he had seen of the Rito so far it would be in character for him. Link gave another hard look at the two tarps, desperate to see what lay beneath them before his attention was once again stolen by Daruk. 

The Goron was holding his head high, looking above and behind Link. Turning to see what had his attention Link saw the window to Zelda’s office, and more specifically the owner of said office. She was looking right down at the duo, although her gaze seemed so stern that Link felt quite alone at the moment. 

Holding up one hand she made a simple gesture, signaling with one finger that she wanted Link up there. It was time to discuss the contract, or at least Link hoped it was. Otherwise it would mean a very short conversation and a disheartening walk out of the building.

The room was filled with an awkward silence, only broken by the steady tick tock of the clock which hung on the wall. Zelda drummed her fingers softly on the desk as she collected her thoughts and prepared her strategy. In front of her lay a contract all but ready to be signed, and across from her was Link, the man she would have to do everything she could to keep from signing it. 

To her right sat Urbosa, the Gerudo woman feeling like an unexpected opponent in this process. As much as Zelda wanted to sink the new hopeful’s chances and search for more experienced options she could not be too obvious about it without her longtime business partner calling her on it. Urbosa was a skilled negotiator and her skills would be missed for this battle. After all without her they would have had to pay twice as much to keep Revali signed to the team.

Speaking of the Rito, the arrogant driver also joined in on the meeting. It was not necessarily normal for a driver to sit in on somebody else’s contract negotiation, but he insisted on knowing where any potential teammate would stand within the team Zelda had agreed to the request if only to help keep her only driver happy in the team. The only condition had been that he keep any talking to a minimum, although she would be surprised if he actually managed to stick to it.

And finally in the corner of the room sat Impa, still unmoved on the couch and still seemingly more interested in her tea than any discussion. She would certainly be paying close attention though, that much Zelda knew. She would have a difficult time hiding her intentions from the Shiekah elder and she would undoubtedly not like that Zelda was so insistent on brushing aside the driver she had suggested. But as happy as she was to give advice Impa had never interfered with running the team. Even when Zelda had gone against Impa’s advice in the past she would be accepting of Zelda’s decision.

Wanting to get the meeting moving Zelda broke the silence by clearing her throat before beginning to speak.

“Well Mr. Link. I’m sure you are very excited about the possibility of driving for our team.” Zelda subtly emphasized the word to underline that he was still only a possible option, not a guarantee. Any chance she had to whittle away at his confidence would have to be taken. “However I’m sure you understand that there are certain terms that we must discuss and agree to first.” She sait motioning down to the contract that sat between them. When she looked back to him the only response she received was a silent nod of understanding. She would have wished for more of a response she could have interpreted his thoughts from but she continued.

“First is the matter of your status on the team. I’m sure you’re aware that we have been working with Revali for a few years now. His skill and experience is one of the most trusted assets Silent Princess Engineering has. With that in mind you will be expected to defer to him when asked.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see the Rito’s smirk grow wider.

“Yes, pardon me for being so blunt, but let’s not forget that I am the most skilled driver among the Rito and perhaps even all of motorsports.” Revali interjected with a pompous gesture towards himself. “The team needs this win and any resources spent not pushing me to victory would simply be a waste.” Link tried to maintain a professional expression, but Zelda could still notice an irritated glare thrown the Rito’s way. If he was going to say anything back she interjected before he could get the chance. 

“That means you will let him by on track when necessary and we will give him preferential treatment when it comes to strategy. In addition we will use your car to test more… experimental set ups for the purpose of getting more data. So to put it simply you will be in a supporting role.”

Link was quiet for a moment and Zelda even let herself hope that the negotiations had ended before they even truly began. In her time in the sport one thing she had grown to expect was for drivers to be very prideful. Their naturally competitive nature meant that few if any wanted to settle for second on track if they could avoid it, much less settle for second within their own team.

But after a moment Link merely nodded, and gestured for her to continue. 

“I’m glad we’re clear on those terms.” Zelda said while internally cursing to herself. She had at least hoped for more resistance or more signs of reluctance out of him. No matter, the contract was hardly going to get any better for him. 

“Moving on then. I know you likely desire to stay with the team long term however we can not promise that. The driver market has always been very fluid and our needs are constantly changing. As such we can not offer you anything lengthy and this contract will be for the Hateno 500 and this one race only.” 

Again a moment of silent contemplation, and again a simple nod in response. Zelda had to stop herself from gnashing her teeth. Was he nodding in agreement or simply nodding in understanding? She didn’t like how difficult he was to read. 

Shaking herself out of her frustration Zelda decided it probably didn’t matter. She still had one more trick up her sleeve to make him run from this contract. If there were two things all young drivers seemed to be after it was fame and fortune. He would hardly be noticed as the second driver for such a small team so fame would be out of the picture. Now she just had to undercut his dreams of fortune.

“Right then. Now if you find these conditions to be agreeable then I believe it’s time we discuss your fees.” Zelda kept up her professional demeanor, having to stop herself from leaning forward in her seat. Link seemed to perk up at the change in topic, sitting up a bit straighter and his nervous expression being replaced with an excited smile.

“I was hoping for something like sixteen and a half.” Link said, short and to the point, adding an afterthought with a shrug “Maybe a little bonus if I do well.”

Zelda had to suppress a smile. One off entries for the Hateno 500 had been known to draw a lot of money on occasion, but those were rare even for established drivers. Older fan favorites making their return on a farewell tour or superstars from other series making a well publicized crossover could ask for a lot of money but young up and comers making their first start could not. Sixteen and a half million Rupees was far too great to be any kind of reasonable especially on the kind of budget Silent Princess Engineering was working on. 

And if he was going to make unreasonable demands then keeping his signature off the contract would be all the easier. 

“I’m sorry but that’s simply not doable for us. Money is already tight for us and adding something like that to the payroll would be too great a burden.” She responded, glancing over at Urbosa confirmed what she was thinking. Even if they were to work their way down from that, with a starting offer that high it was unlikely that they would agree on a price that was agreeable to both the team and to Link. 

Link for his part seemed hesitant, almost even guilty. Exactly the sort of expression Zelda was hoping for. If this was where negotiations took a down turn then that was all right with her. Anything for her to get another shot with somebody who would actually have the experience to help the team.

“All right…” Link said awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head, “I can go as low as fifteen I suppose but anything lower than that and rent is going to be pretty tight.” 

“What?” It was Zelda’s turn to give an awkward response, although where Link’s had been one of hesitation and guilt her’s was one of confusion. She looked back over to Urbosa who seemed to share her bewilderment until a dawning realization came over the both of them simultaneously. 

He was not asking fifteen million dollars. He was asking for fifteen dollars an hour. 

The realization gave Urbosa a joyful smile, a mirror opposite of Zelda felt. She didn’t want this, she didn’t want him. She squeezed her fist underneath the desk as if her anger alone might somehow present a way out of this predicament. 

As her Gerudo friend told Link that they could probably find it in their budget to pay him what he had originally asked for Zelda cursed her luck. Over Link’s shoulder she caught a glimpse of Impa, still sipping at her tea but now bearing an almost imperceptible smirk of satisfaction. Revali shared a similar expression, although he was probably happy because of the pay difference between him and his number two teammate and the difference in value to the team that it reflected. 

A moment later as Link inked his signature onto the contract Zelda was forced to finally admit defeat. The team was in the middle of it’s most dire times, hanging on by a thread and needing everything to go right in Hateno. And as if things could not get any better she would now have to rely on a rookie not to mess it all up.

As the deal was sealed with a round of handshakes she could not even force herself to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading the new chapter. I was hoping to finish this chapter a while ago but found it difficult to find time to write and had trouble getting the ball rolling on this chapter. But when I heard about Age of Calamity I knew I couldn't let a whole new Zelda game be announced and released before I added another chapter. Hopefully I can get another one done by the time AoC comes out.
> 
> There are a few parts of the chapter I think I could have done better. I feel like Zelda is a bit out of character here but I think it's mostly in line with a version of her who is a bit older but is still holding some resentment for Link like she does in the first few memories of BotW. Still she will get better though so hold on. 
> 
> In the meantime however I hope you all stay safe and stay healthy. Looking forward to keeping this story going for you all.


	7. Garagistas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Revali try to one up each other, and a dark presence make's a visit to the Silent Princess racing shop.

“How long am I going to have to sit in this stuff again?”

“Long enough for the mold to set, about half an hour.”

“Great, here goes nothing I guess.”

Without further preamble Link let out a discomforted groan as he sat down, his rear sinking into a block of gel. It felt as though he were sinking into a pool of mud that was finding a way to get everywhere. He shifted his weight around, trying and failing to find a position that was comfortable. The whole time the gel clung to him like glue.

“There’s no use complaining. It won’t make that stuff harden any faster.” Robbie said as he walked around Link inspecting the gel block to ensure it was functioning as intended. 

“And be thankful you’re not a Rito.” Piped in Puah, who was within earshot a couple feet away tinkering with a gearbox, “He still occasionally complains about how hard it was to wash the excess gel out of his feathers.”

Said Rito wasted no time before interjecting, “I mean really could you really not have covered that stuff with something before I sat down? Forcing me to spend Hylia knows how much time restoring my ploom to its perfect state was just asinine.” 

“No we could not.” said Robbie seemingly trying to suppress laughter at the memory, “This is a vital part of getting a car ready for a driver. The seat needs to fit you very snugly, both for your comfort and your safety.” It was an argument that had little sway on Revali, who waved it off with a dismissive flap of his wing. Robbie paid little attention to Revali’s attitude however, instead turning back to Link before continuing to speak. “As long as you don’t go putting on or losing excessive weight we will only need to do this once. Then we will be able to take the mold and make extra seats as needed.”

It was a small comfort but it at least made the next thirty minutes more bearable. He tried to spend the time making small talk with the mechanic but Robbie had gone off to assist Purah as soon as he was confident that the mold was properly setting. That left Link alone with Revali, who decided to stick around despite the contempt he seemed to hold for Link. Perhaps the Rito simply found his predicament to be amusing. 

“I still cannot believe they actually signed you.” Revali sneered, “It won’t matter how much they save on your paycheck when you manage to hit something the next time you spin.” 

“I just won’t spin again then.” Link replied dryly. If Revali had heard him or even cared what Link had to say then he didn’t show it.

“I mean what did they see in you anyways? It’s not as if you’ve even raced these cars before. All you’ve done is take them for a spin, quite literally might I add.” It was a probing question that Link had no answer for. He had done all right in his test, or at least he thought he had done so before his mistake. Sensing his insult had hit a nerve Revali drove it home. “Of course in the end it simply will not matter. After all who else but you will care how poorly you did when I am hoisting the winner’s trophy.”

Link wished he could take some comfort in Revali’s confidence but as is he could only find the Rito’s additude annoying. He had enough to worry about trying to fit in at a new team and readying himself to make his debut on one of the biggest stages in motorsports. A smug if not hostile teammate only made things worse. Link felt his annoyance grow to an angry irritation. Whether it was this stress or simply his natural competitive pride he wasn’t sure.

“Why would I let you hold my trophy?” Link shot back, “Your feathers would only get it dirty, probably by smudging it with this gel stuff.” He slapped the molding he was sitting in to accentuate his point. 

Revali scoffed, a sound that his beak seemed purpose built to create, “How dare you, my majestic ploom is as unsoiled as your trophy case is empty.” 

“Perhaps you should spend less time fussing about how you will look in victory lane and more time getting there.” Link countered.

“You remember your place you number two driver.” Revali cut back, using Link’s contracted place in the team as a weapon as he grew more irritated by Link’s defiance. “You’re on the track to serve me. And you’re fortunate all I ask of you on race day is not to spin as I come by to put you a lap down.”

“Afraid of a fair fight I see.” 

“Why would I be?” The Rito answered, “I doubt you could properly handle a go kart, much less a proper race car.”

“Want to bet?” Dared Link, shooting his teammate a smirk that for the first time was actually shared.

* * *

Zelda’s mood had been fluctuating all day. When she had arrived at the shop in the morning she had been rather preoccupied with her sour and resentful thoughts regarding her team's new driver. She had even contemplated continuing her search for a different driver in secret and looking for a way out of the contract with Link. However she had quickly grown distracted by work that needed to be done on the cars. 

This newfound distraction was actually the source of whatever positive could be said about her mood. Actually working with the cars had always been her favorite part about running the team, doubly so when she got to do design work. When she had started Silent Princess Engineering she had rather naively hoped that such work would take up the bulk of her time. Being faced with the reality of paperwork, financial balancing, and business dealings had been the first great disappointment of running the team, even more so than the lack of good results. 

As challenging as it was to be forced to field another car, and as much as a burden she thought the new driver would be, Zelda could not deny that a part of her was simply excited for an excuse to get her hands dirty. She was in her element and doing what she was meant to do. 

She, Purah, and Robbie had been a whirlwind of activity around the cars. Inspecting the chassis and crash structures on both to ensure they were suitable to race, taking out and disassembling the engines to perform extensive maintenance, and countless other things both big and small that would need to be done. The methodical process of dotting every i and crossing every T was the sort of thing Zelda could lose herself in and forget about her other worries.

Or at least it she could have, were one of those worries not also currently causing her another problem.

“Where in Hylia is Link?” she muttered to herself as she stormed the halls of the shop. Her almost trance-like state of work interrupted when Robbie had informed her that he could not find Link for the final seat fitting. In an instant she had gone from one of her favorite activities to one of her least. Drivers were already a pain to deal with, doubly so when she had to practically parent them. 

They were the flawed components in her machines and Zelda dreamed of a future where she wouldn’t have to deal with them.

It did not take long for the search of her rather small shop to fail to locate Link nor did it take much time to check the parking lot to confirm that he had indeed left. Unfortunately this knowledge had come with another discovery, that Link was not alone in his absence. Revali had joined him. 

And so she had returned inside, almost seething with anger and annoyance. As if it were not enough she had to hire that inexperienced rookie, now he was going to disappear and take her other driver with him. She thought over the terms of the contract they had signed, wondering and even hoping that this disappearing act might be enough to fire him.

In the end it was an off hand remark from Daruk that had given her the answer to the mystery of her vanishing drivers. The Goron had been carrying a crate of parts into the garage when he had mentioned wishing he could have tagged along with the pair, saying that it would have been fun to help put the new guy through his paces.

When Zelda had asked what he meant he had grown sheepish. It took her pressing to get him to spill the beans.

“I thought you knew. I figured it was your idea, like a team building exercise for them or something.” 

“I did no such thing. Now tell me, where did they go?” Daruk scratched the back of his head, somewhat embarrassed, causing Zelda to push once again. “Daruk please.”

“They went racing, at that local karting rack.”

And so Zelda had left her shop to go retrieve the troublesome drivers. As she drove from the shop to the karting track the skies above her began to reflect her tumultuous mood. A cloudless blue gave way to dark clouds and when she finally arrived they had broken into an outright downpour. Zelda took comfort that at least the weather should make it easier to get the troublesome pair of drivers to come back to the shop.

Finally arriving at the track she slammed her car into a parking space before storming out and up to the building. A rainbow colored neon sign sat above the door, proudly displaying the name of the track as ‘Mario’s Karting’. Through the window she could see two people whom she could only assume were the owners standing at the front desk. There was a mustached man dressed in oil stained overalls and a red hat next to a well dressed blonde woman that vaguely reminded Zelda of herself. 

She stepped out of the rain into the lobby of the Karting center expecting to find only a few stubborn customers and some bored employees waiting out the sudden down period. What she found instead was a small crowd of people lined up against the windows watching the rain pour down onto the track. Her confusion grew to concern as she approached the group and couldn’t help but notice a lack of a certain blonde Hylian and a blue feathered Rito. 

The mystery of their absence was answered as quickly as it arose as she arrived at the window, and peeking over the shoulders if the spectators saw what was so interesting.

Out on the track, completely unfazed by the heavy rain, two drivers sped around the drenched circuit. She did not need to see underneath the helmets to know the identity of these two idiotically enthusiastic competitors. Both cars shot up sprays of water behind their back wheels as their respective drivers struggled for traction, occasionally shooting up larger splashes when one of them found a puddle of standing water.

At the moment Revali was ahead, although it was clear that wouldn’t be the case for long if Link had anything to say about it. For a few minutes Zelda simply joined the spectators in watching her two drivers battle on track, taking strange zig-zagging lines around the track as they searched for whatever grip could be found on the wet asphalt. Hardly a lap went by where the driver behind did not manage to overtake their rival, only to find themselves under attack just a few corners later. 

“How long until their race is over?” Zelda directed a question towards a track employee who was watching the duel right next to her. 

“Until it stops raining or they get tired.” shrugged the young Sheikah man, “Not even the Zora want to race out in those conditions so it’s not like we have to kick them out to give somebody else a turn.”

“Fantastic.” Zelda muttered under her breath. This was going to make getting these two back to the shop was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated. She was ready to storm out there and put a stop to the race on her own when she stopped herself. For the first time she really looked at the crowd of spectators and just how excited they all were to watch her two drivers go at it.

They were customers of the Karting track, people who had come here for a day of fun that had been cut short by the weather. But instead of going home in defeat or leaving to find something else to entertain themselves they had stayed to watch these two drivers, her two drivers, go at it out there in the rain. 

In particular a small Gerudo child caught her attention. The red haired girl had her nose pressed up against the window excitedly watching every move of the battle, only taking it off to wipe the glass clean when her breath fogged it up enough to obscure her view of the action. Zelda could hear the kid periodically beg her mother, in between tugs on the woman’s jacket sleeves, to let her go out and race too. 

Zelda’s heart panged for the poor girl. She recognized so much of her younger self in the kid. Zelda remembered feeling almost the same infatuation with racing at her age. While Zelda’s fascination had grown to a love of the machines themselves she could imagine it could have just as easily grown into an admiration of the drivers.

Unfortunately it was not the only thing before her that she found familiar from her youth. A single glance at the girl’s mother told of a misunderstanding and utter disinterest of the child’s budding passion. The Gerudo woman may have lacked a long bushy beard but in her demeanor her resemblance to Zelda’s father was uncanny. 

Before she even thought about what she was doing Zelda found that she had crossed the room and was crouching down next to the girl. 

“They’re really going at it, aren’t they?” Zelda asked in a gentle inquisitive voice. The little girl didn’t speak at first, instead responding by merely nodding her head as she continued to watch mouth agape at the battle out on track. 

“It’s just like the big cars I see on TV.” When the girl finally spoke she barely spared Zelda a glance. 

“Sweetie I told you it’s rude not to look at people when you speak to them” The girl’s mother interjected. 

“Oh it’s quite alright, I don’t mind.” Zelda brushed off the Gerudo woman’s concern, feeling herself sympathize more with the child by the minute. “I bet you wish you were out there racing too huh?” she asked, turning back to the girl.

The girl nodded, “They say I’m not tall enough to drive the grown up karts yet.” She paused to glance up at her mother, “And Momma says I can’t be out in the rain because I would get my clothes wet.”

Zelda’s friendly smile faltered somewhat. As much as she may have liked she was probably not going to change the Gerudo woman’s mind. It was a shame really, the little girl was so excited by the race between Revali and Link that it seemed she would have been perfectly happy to just drive laps by herself. Instead she was stuck inside watching instead of doing. That was hardly a way to learn, much less to stay engaged in a budding passion. Still without her Mother’s permission watching would be all the girl would be doing for the time being. It might even be all she does for the rest of the day depending on the weather and her Mother’s patience. 

Zelda bit her lip in apprehension. She really needed to get back to the shop with Link and Revali in tow. Link needed his final seat fitting and Revali would need to give input on setup as part of the car’s preparations. They were on a tight schedule getting both car’s ready for the approaching race, and a delay might mean a heavier crunch at the last minute. 

But Zeda didn’t want to end this girl’s day of go karting early, especially not when she was so excitedly enjoying the race Link and Revali were putting on. 

She began to search her mind for a compromise she could make with herself. How much more time would it be reasonable to let this go on? A half an hour? Forty-five minutes? A full hour? Zelda wasn’t sure and every look at the girl’s wonder filled face made a longer delay seem all the more acceptable. 

In the end her hand was forced and it might have been just as well that it had been otherwise she wasn’t sure how long she would have been there. 

On track the intensity of Revali and Link’s battle had picked up. At first the process was slow, a bump here or somebody being forced wide there. But before too long it was clear that the two were becoming far too absorbed in their battle. Almost every corner they took was marked by one kart pushing, side swiping, or otherwise hitting the other. The final straw had come when Revali had cut Link off in such a way to cause the Hylian’s cart to go airborne for a short second after climbing it’s opponents wheels. 

Zelda let out a sigh, she had to put a stop to this. Otherwise one or both of her drivers was likely to hurt themselves or end up liable for damage to the karts. 

Bidding goodbye to the Gerudo girl and her Mother Zelda stepped outside of the spectator building and walked the short distance to the track. Finding the checkered flag in a holder where an employee had left it while they seeked cover from the rain she pulled it out. When next Revali and Link came around to start a new lap she gave the flag a wave while sending the pair of drivers each a stern glare. The message was clear, their little race was over. 

Link was the first to notice her as he pulled out from behind Revali to try and make a pass. The Rito for his part did not see until he had turned his attention away from his pursuing challenger and back to the track in front of him. It was clear neither one of them expected their fun to come to an end so soon. And if that was unexpected then the idea of Zelda coming out here to put an end to it herself must have seemed impossible. 

Link was the first to react, perhaps fearing the impression he was making on his new boss. His right foot flew off of the accelerator pedal while his left stamped down on the brake. The sudden shift in what he was asking from the kart coincided with his wheels hitting a puddle of standing water that had formed on the track which combined to result in a very sudden loss of grip.

Link’s kart jerked to the side, suddenly veering to the right. Fortunately for Link there was something there to catch his kart. Unfortunately for him that thing just so happened to be Revali’s kart. As the two came together they both spun off to the left, splashing water and mud everywhere before they both came to rest in the small tire barrier which lined either side of the track. 

Both Drivers were unharmed, although as she watched them both lug their karts out before leaving a trail of muddy footprints on their way back inside Zelda found it difficult to imagine feeling any sympathy for the two if they had been hurt.

* * *

“This position feels good with the wheel.” Link said as he turned it back and forth, his soaked sleeves making a wet squelch as he did so. “I can get a good range of rotation without bumping my arms into the side of the cockpit or twisting my wrists into any awkward angles.” 

“Excellent!” replied Robbie, “Now give the pedals a few pumps and let me know if we’ll need to adjust them.” 

Link did as Robbie asked and gave the throttle and brake pedals several pushes before commenting that he would prefer it if they were a bit closer to him and slightly further apart if possible. 

“That shouldn’t take too long to tweak.” Robbie said he got to work through a removable panel above Link’s feat. Zelda could hear the Sheikah mutter quietly to himself as he went about the task, complaining about how annoying it was to work with Link making the cockpit all wet. Link had wanted to get a change of clothes but Zelda had insisted they not waste any more time. And so the mechanic was just going to have to put up with it. 

At least now she was not the only one annoyed with their new driver.

“Just about… almost there…. and… done!” Robbie proclaimed “Give them another try and tell me-”

“Garagistas! Garagistas! Did nobody ever teach you to greet your guests?” The sound of a deep mean voice reverberated through the halls of the race shop into the garage area, cutting the Sheikah mechanic off. “I knew you built your cars in a barn but now I see you were raised in one too.” 

Zelda let out a loud groan at the sound of the unfortunately familiar voice. She had heard it far too many times before and not one of those occasions had been anywhere close to pleasant. Whatever reason that wretched man had come for this time Zelda knew that it could make her day worse. As if it needed any help after her headache in getting her drivers back to the shop. Neither she nor the Sheikah mechanics bothered moving from their tasks. They knew that the unwelcome guest would let himself in.

“Ah yes of course, here you all are.” Ganondorf Dragmire exclaimed as he waltzed through the doors into the garage area. The Garagistas in their natural environment, covered in grease as they fiddle with things they do not understand.” 

“Do you really have nothing better to do with your time, Dragmire?” Zelda asked wryly, “Or did the board members finally come to their senses and give you the boot? I’ll tell you right now that if you came to beg for a job you’re out of luck. I wouldn’t even trust you to sweep the floors here.” 

“Well I certainly hope you find somebody you can entrust that duty with.” Ganondorf replied, “This dump could certainly use a thorough cleaning.”

“What in Hylia do you want?” Zelda demanded, cutting right to the point. As tempting as it might have been to spend some time insulting the vile Gerudo she and the team did not need the distraction. Besides any time spent in his presence was simply insufferable. He had a way of making minutes feel like centuries. 

“Can a man not come in to check on his competitors?” he asked, voice dripping with barely veiled mockery and contempt. “After all I read some rather horrible rumors in the press that your team might not have the sponsorship to run Hateno.”

Zelda felt her eye twitch in annoyance and anger. She had seen the articles he was referring to. She just knew anonymous sources that had leaked the information about their struggles with Guardian Auto Parts had been him. After all he had almost certainly been the reason that they had grown so demanding, and the fact that he had come to not so subtly brag only confirmed her suspicions. 

“Your sympathy is unwanted and unneeded.” she spat back, “We’re going to make Hateno with not just one, but two cars.” 

“So I see.” Ganondorf sneered, turning his head to acknowledge Link, who for his part was still sitting in the tub of his car watching the confrontation with no small amount of confusion. “This must be your new driver.” He stepped up to the car and examined Link like a trapped animal, “I can’t say I recognize him, tell me is he one of the recruits from your driver academy?”

Zelda gnashed her teeth. His question was not a question and instead merely a brag that his company could afford programs to scout and recruit young talent and that Silent Princess Engineering could not. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle in his jabs and as such did not even bother waiting for an answer to his non-question.

“Or did you simply pick him up off of the streets?” It was an insult that would not have hit so hard had Zelda not agreed with it. Dragmire must have seen in her expression that his jab had hit home and so with a cruel smile he pushed his advantage. 

“Running a race team truly is a tiring job, even for those who are up to the challenge like me.” He stepped away from Link’s car, walking and looking around the shop as he spoke, “Surely wasting your time with the trivial details and mundane tasks of management is not what you were meant to do.”

He almost sounded like her Father. Zelda didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or throw something. Of course she knew where this was going. This was not the first time he had tried something like this and he was not exactly being subtle.

“For the last time I’m not selling the team.” Zelda said flatly and firmly. 

“I am not unreasonable.” Ganondorf did his best to sound generous which despite his well practiced charisma was never a tone of voice that sounded quite right coming from his mouth. “You would maintain a controlling stake of the team, and would gain the resources and support of my company.” He was now walking towards Zelda, gesturing to the shop around him as he spoke. “All I would ask in return is to be able to pick that engineering mind of yours for ideas.” 

Zelda could not deny to herself that the offer had its appeal. Access to the kind of equipment a team of that size had would be like a fresh fruitcake to her designer side. Computer models, wind tunnels, and enough resources she could throw her every little idea at the wall for testing. Of course this didn’t outweigh the downsides. SHe would be giving up on her dream of running a successful team, not to mention such an agreement would mean more Ganondorf in her life which was something she already had farr too much of for her liking. 

“My answer’s the same as it always has been, and the same as it always will be.”

“Now, now, now think of what you might be throwing away.” Ganondorf waived off her refusal, “With your brains and my resources the Silent Princess brand could become a performance icon. The world would know your name for your design genius.”

“Oh it will be.” Zelda replied, “And when it is it will not be tainted by being associated with you.”

Ganondorf sneered, “Surely somebody of your talents would be better suited working on the best cars in the world. Somebody of your heritage should have the best facilities, the best staff. Not working at a dump like this.” Ganondorf gestured wildly at the disorganized and poorly outfited garage. 

“And this dump of a shop is going to kick your sorry butt.” Purah broke her silence, her voice teeming with an angry excited energy. It was a feeling that mirrored Zelda’s own feelings. Despite Ganondorf’s best efforts all she wanted to do now was prove him wrong or go broke trying.

“What she said.” Zelda shot her Sheikah friend an appreciative look before turning back to the object of her ire. “Now that our negotiations have come to an end I believe it's time for you to leave.”

Dragmire grunted in frustration, a simmering anger festered in his eyes. Turning away from Zelda he began pacing towards the opposite wall. “We shall see how you feel this time next month. I have a feeling you shall not be so defiant when this insolent little team is without a sponsor to pay the bills.”

It was Zelda’s turn to get angry. He had given up any pretext that he was not responsible for the issues with their sponsor, though it was hardly surprising that he could not resist flaunting the power he held.

“It is a shame really. Your time, your talents, your name… they could be put to such better use under my automotive empire.” His deep voice carried as he approached the other side of the room and more specifically what lay on that side of the room. The two cars that Zelda had designed and built from the ground up both sat under tarps. Every idea Zelda and her Sheikah team had been developed enough to actually build lay underneath those covers.

“Every idea you have here will only go to waste.” Dragmire’s hand approached them, ready to tear them off so that he may lay his eyes on what sat beneath. Zelda’s legs shot into action to rush her across the room so that she could stop him. “If only you actually let me put them to proper-”

Where Zelda was trying to get between Ganondorf and his car somebody else had chosen to take a more direct approach. From the corner of her vision she saw a wrench spinning and arcing through the air. Time almost seemed to slow as she watched the tool make it’s flight before landing across the back of the loathsome Gerudo’s head. His cry of pain was joined by an equally loud clanging as the wrench fell to the garage floor. 

Turning around Zelda saw the source of the flying tool as Purah was still in the follow through from her throw, a proud smile spread across her face. Zelda could have hugged her Sheikah friend right there and then. Turning back to Purah’s target she saw Ganondorf was now absolutely seething. Where his eyes held anger a mere moment earlier they were now bursting with barely contained rage. 

“I suggest you leave now.” said Zelda firmly, wanting to end this confrontation before it went any further. “Or else I will fetch our Goron friend to remove you. I trust that a man of your standing would not necessitate such force.”

Whether the appeal to his pride was successful or Ganondorf’s reason managed to control his fury, it at least had the desired outcome. Turning on his heels without a word the Gerudo began to storm out of the shop, only stopping to speak once he was at the door.

“One day I will crush this pathetic team beneath my boot. And when I do I will take this wretched shop and burn it to the ground.” 

The deep boom of his yell still echoed throughout the building as he slammed the door shut behind him and stormed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's another chapter in the books. As always thank you all so much for reading and especially those who left reviews and comments, they really help motivate me when it comes time to start a new chapter. 
> 
> Really happy with how this one turned out and it was a lot of fun to write. I mean I got to have Link and Revali bicker and go karting, I got to have some writing Ganondorf as an insufferable annoyance, and got to have Purah throw a wrench at him. I even got to put a Mario Kart reference in there. 
> 
> In an ideal world I would be able to get to chapter ten by the end of the year. As is with me being busier at work and the holidays coming up I'm more likely only to get one or two chapters done. On the brightside however next chapter I will be able to begin writing about the first major race. I've been looking forward to this as it's going to be a love letter to the Indianapolis 500 and the month of May.  
> And for those that are curious, Garagistas is a derogatory term Enzo Ferrari used to refer to the smaller privateer teams that competed against his cars in Formula one.
> 
> Once again, thank you all so much for reading and for those leaving reviews and comments. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. You all stay safe and healthy, and if I get lazy and can’t get another chapter out by the end of the year I hope you all have happy holidays.
> 
> P.s. There is a Non zero chance I will try to figure out a way to work that adorable little egg guardian from Age of Calamity into the story. I played that demo the other week and I don’t think I’ll be truly happy with my life until I have a plushie of it that beeps and whistles when I squeeze it.


End file.
